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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25477300">A Hero's Last Cry</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/AquilaTempestas/pseuds/AquilaTempestas'>AquilaTempestas</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Bakuten Shoot Beyblade, Beyblade</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Action, Adventure, Angst, Drama, Friendship, Gen, Humour, Romance, Season 4 Beyblade Story, tournament</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-07-24</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-03-19</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-05 12:21:55</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>7</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>28,489</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25477300</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/AquilaTempestas/pseuds/AquilaTempestas</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>When a new world tournament approaches, trouble is never far behind. Once again Tyson’s title is under threat and Kai plays an important role in Tyson’s foreseen downfall. Can destiny be changed?</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Kinomiya Takao | Tyson Granger/Tachibana Hiromi | Hilary Tachibana</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>5</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Prologue</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Alexander kicked at the ground with the tip of his right foot, sending a small pebble flying. The past week had all been about the G-Revolutions team and their infamous victory against the Bega League at the world tournament. All week long he had seen Tyson’s smug face all over the media – newspapers, brochures, posters, advertisements, and the news. His name was even reported on the radio every couple of hours.</p><p>Switching off the television and refusing to read the paper didn’t help either. No matter how hard he tried to get away, something or someone would raise the G-Revolutions name and the familiar emotion of anger rising in his chest would occur again. To make matters worse, Tyson had announced that he would be returning to the bey stadium to defend his title for a fourth time. Anger swelled up in his belly, like a fire being lit up. Did he not know when to quit?</p><p>His friends weren’t as enthusiastic about the idea at least. They had enough sense to know when to quit. Rei, Max, Daichi and Kai had all publicly come forward with separate announcements of their retirement from the professional side of the sport. Tyson had defeated them at their best, and the boys knew there was no longer any point in trying anymore.</p><p>But Tyson, being Tyson, had yet to grasp this.</p><p>He kicked at another pebble on the ground. What made Tyson so powerful? How did a rookie blader like him become so strong? It was something Alexander couldn’t understand. He had dedicated his life to becoming a bey warrior, yet here he was on the streets without a place to call home.</p><p>It was all thanks to Tyson and his friends. Curling his fingers into fists, he sauntered down the street, his lips pressed into a thin line. Vile memories flooded his mind. Darkness. A leering face. Purple bruises in all sorts of places. Mocking laughter. Coldness. He stopped before a poster of Tyson pinned up on a streetlight and looked up.</p><p>“They call you a champion, but you’re nothing but a monster,” he said through clenched teeth. He picked up a pebble and threw it at the poster leaving a dent in the centre of Tyson’s forehead. “Do you know what happened to me? Do you even care? You have your trophies. That’s all that matters to you. Glory. But at what cost?”</p><p>He spat at the dirt. Boris. Kai. Voltaire. Tyson. Everyone. They were all liars and deserved to be punished. He wanted nothing more than to expose them to the world for the hypocrites they truly were. To watch them suffer and feel his pain. Maybe then they would understand.</p><p>A strong breeze swept the street. Pink blossom leaves flew past him, carried further down the street, only to be dropped as the breeze died. He bent over and picked one up. “One moment we are blossoming, but that moment is fleeting. Then it’s just death,” he murmured, dropping it on the floor. He stomped on it, hard, and twisted his foot, crushing the petal.</p><p>Laughter filled the air. Alexander ventured through the gates and followed the twisting cobblestone path towards the centre of the park. An exhibition match was to be held in the G-Revolution’s honour. Tyson was a hometown hero. The people wanted to celebrate their hero. As if the boy needed a bigger head on his shoulders. Organized by Hilary, the match was supposed to raise funds for a blading charity, but he was certain the team would earn their fair share.</p><p>He walked across fallen cherry blossoms and approached the centre stage, keeping himself distanced from the people. Fans cried out for their idols to come out and play. He winced. If only he could drown out their high-pitched squeals, but the voices only became louder. Mr. Dickenson was also said to be making an appearance today. Apparently, he would be announcing the changes to the upcoming tournament.</p><p>It didn’t take him long to reach the event ground. As expected, there were hundreds of people already present. He wouldn’t be surprised if these people had slept here overnight to get the best possible view of their heroes. Turning his head around, he scanned the environment, searching for a suitable location. His eyes rested on a nearby cherry blossom tree. Surprisingly, no one had even considered climbing it. He supposed they were all far too excited to think straight.</p><p>No one even tried to stop him. It was like he wasn’t even there. He hoisted himself up the tree then clambered over to a thick branch and waited for the festivities to begin. There was a stage at the front, and a pedestal in the middle. Before the stage was a plain bey dish. Rows of security guards stood on either side, as a cameraman hurried towards the stage to get the best possible angle.</p><p>“Oh my gosh, I can’t believe we get to see Rei and Max up close and personal!” a girl with long blonde hair squealed.</p><p>Her friend, a redhead, replied with her own enthusiastic comment. “Rei is so hot!”</p><p>“Max is adorable!” said the third girl, a female with short black hair.</p><p>“Kai is totally the best-looking. It’s a shame he can’t make it today, but I hear they’re planning another BBA event soon for all the team members,” the blonde girl said. “He’s so hot. I feel so weak at the knees when he smiles.”</p><p>Alexander rolled his eyes. These girls probably didn’t even know anything about the sport other than its name. They were just here to look at the boys and that was it. He threw them a disgusted look. Fake fans pretending to like something for shallow reasons. It only proved Mr. Dickinson was losing his touch. Anyone with a pretty face could be on that stage now.</p><p>“Oooh, here comes Mr. Dickinson now!” the blonde said, pointing to the stage.</p><p>Alexander turned back to the stage. Mr. Dickinson hobbled across the stage aided by his walking stick. The man looked greyer than what he remembered – perhaps the stress of the past few years was finally catching up with him. The crowd fell silent as the man walked to the pedestal.</p><p>“Welcome ladies and gentlemen to the first BBA public event of 2015!”</p><p>The crowd erupted in applause. Mr. Dickinson waited for a couple of moments for the crowd to die down before continuing further.</p><p>“As you all know, preparations for the fourth world tournament are well underway. I’ve staged this event to inform you of the changes that will be taking place this year. We recently held a feedback survey on our website asking for your opinion on last year’s tournament. Those of you who replied commented that you enjoyed the designs of the dishes and the intensity of the matches but felt the tag-team format didn’t work.”</p><p>“He’s right about that,” the redhead girl said. “I mean, it was great watching the best bladers have a go, but there are some cute guys who missed out on all the fun.”</p><p>Mr. Dickinson cleared his throat. “We carefully reviewed your comments, and we agree with your concerns – this year, we’re dropping the tag-team format and returning to what worked well in the first year. There will be eight teams, and it will be a best of three battles. Each blader on the team must battle at least two times otherwise the team will be disqualified immediately. We want all bladers to have a fair chance this year.”</p><p>The crowd stirred to life with a round of applause. “Back to basics, it seems,” said another girl.</p><p>“Where is the tournament going to be held?”</p><p>“As you may well recall, Australia was home to the semi-finals of the recent tag-team tournament. The board and I have decided to allow the country to be the host nation of the fourth world cup. The Australian Board has partnered with the New Zealand Board to bring you top matches in high quality dishes. Brisbane will host the first round, and the final will be held in Queenstown, New Zealand.” Another round of applause. The man smiled. “Thirdly, I would like to announce that-”</p><p>It took only a split second, and Mr. Dickinson was dead. The man stumbled backwards then fell on his backside, crying out in pain. A bullet square in the back of his head. Brought down by a sniper. Security guards rushed to his side. Panic swept through the crowd. Ecstatic screams of joy had become ones of terror. People who had been fighting for the front stage were now desperately trying to get out. It was like watching trapped animals trying to escape a fire.</p><p>It was total chaos. One minute the fans were screaming out the names of their idols, and the next moment there were screams of terror. He could understand their fear – no one would suspect a gunman to shoot the BBA chairmen dead at such a public event. Heck, there had never been a shooting before. Dead. Hard to believe really. If he hadn’t witnessed it with his eyes, he would’ve just disbelieved it. The most powerful man in the world brought to the ground with a single gunshot to the head.</p><p>Alexander climbed down from the tree and walked away from the panicked crowd, smirk tracing his lips. “It seems like there’s another player in this game.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. An Uncertain Future</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em>“Breaking news – Stanley Dickinson, Chairman of the BBA Board, has been murdered. The Chairmen was attending an event to explain the rules of the upcoming tournament when he was gunned down. It is believed a sniper was involved. Police are searching the area for clues. These visuals were taken during and after the shooting – we warn that viewers may find these visuals confronting.”</em>
</p><p>Images of the event played on the screen. Stanley was on stage before the BBA logo banner, speaking into a microphone, addressing the audience about the changes to this year’s world tournament. A large crowd had gathered at the venue, and many of them could be seen taking photos.</p><p>What seemed like a peaceful and fun event soon turned into chaos within seconds. A gunshot. Screaming. Sirens blaring. Security yelling. Chaos. People fled in different directions, searching for the quickest way to escape the venue while security guards tried to point people in the right direction. Medical staff members raced up on stage to try and save Stanley, but the damage had already been done.</p><p>A bullet in the centre of his forehead. The perfect shot. Whoever had fired the bullet had been trained for this task. But why? Who would do such a thing? Questions raced through his mind, but he had no answers. All he could do was sit here before the television screen and ask ‘why?’ like he suspected so many other people were asking.</p><p>“I can’t believe it…” Kenny said. He was sitting to Tyson’s right, cross-legged with his laptop resting on his lap, his face ashen white. Tears had not fallen yet, but Tyson suspected they would soon follow once his mind had recovered from the shock. “Stanley dead…”</p><p>A man who had contributed so much to the world of sport had met an early end at the hands of some coward. Tyson balled a fist and brought it crashing down on the table. He applied enough force the entire table shook, and the vase fell over. “I’m going to find the creep who did this, and he’ll be sorry he murdered Mr. Dickinson!” He hadn’t even been at the event at the time of the murder but watching it on television and seeing it in slow motion, made his death even worse.</p><p>“Tyson!” Kenny snapped, picking up the vase. “What can we do?”</p><p>“We find him! Or her! He didn’t deserve to die, Kenny!” Fingers still curled into a fist, Tyson punched the wall, then leaned against it, squeezing his eyes shut. He sunk to the floor knees brought to his chest. Opening his eyes again, he said, “Stanley gave me the chance to be the blader that I am today. I’m not going to let this death go unanswered.”</p><p>“And just how do you propose we do achieve that, Tyson?”</p><p>In most circumstances, Tyson would argue back, but there was a legit reason behind his younger friend’s temper. “I don’t know how, but I know we will avenge Mr. Dickinson.” The world would be expecting it. “We can’t just sit around here and do nothing. We need to find information.”</p><p>Kenny trembled. “He’s dead, Tyson! Murdered in public before a crowd of fans! Finding information isn’t going to bring Mr. Dickinson back!”</p><hr/><p>“Kenny,” Tyson said, rising to his feet. “We can’t let fear control us.” Whoever had killed Stanley had targeted him for a reason. This was no random attack that much was certain. The BBA was the most powerful company in the world and murdering the chairman was a fine way to cripple them.</p><p>Kenny drew in a deep breath. “You might be able to remain calm in this situation, Tyson, but I can’t! Someone wanted Mr. Dickinson dead! What’s to say they won’t target the rest of us? Going outside is dangerous. They’ll be watching our every movement and-”</p><p>“Snap out of it, Kenny!” Tyson snapped. Kenny fell silent, taking in deep breaths. There were tears rolling down his cheeks. “We don’t know that for sure,” he added, lowering his tone. “What we do know is a crime like this can’t go unresolved.”</p><p>“I’m sorry, it’s just-”</p><p>“It’s hard, I know,” Tyson replied softly. “Stanley made us who we are today. He gave us a chance despite all the odds stacked against him. He made the BBA organization, and we the faces of it. We may not be able to bring him back, but we can do what is right. We can take the easy option out and run away from this, but we can never hide. We need to unite as one and take the fight back, and show them we are not beaten.”</p><p>Kenny wiped the tears away from his face once more. This time, they did not return. He nodded. “Mr. Dickinson deserves a proper burial.”</p><p>“I agree, and we will give him one, but first I need to know – are you with me?”</p><p>There was a slight delay in Kenny’s response. “I’ve stood at your side for years, Tyson. That’s never going to change.”</p><p>Relief poured through him. Their cause would be lost without Kenny’s mind. “I’m glad to hear it.”</p><p>“We’ll need to contact the others –Hilary, Rei, Max and Kai.”</p><p>Reunite a divided team to combat a threat once again. History did seem to repeat. “Hilary, Rei and Max are all in town. Kai is here too, but god knows where. You know what he is like. He’ll come to us. Daichi is… I don’t know where he is. He caught a plane and vanished,” Tyson said. Perhaps it was a good thing Daichi wasn’t in town. He’d do something drastic and chase after Stanley’s murderer himself. “I’ll contact the others.”</p><p>“I’ll organize the details for a private funeral service,” Kenny said.</p><p>Tyson nodded. “I appreciate it.”</p><p>Kenny headed towards the door then stopped before heading out. He glanced over his shoulder and said, “What are you going to do while I’m gone?”</p><p>Good question. It wasn’t like he had anyone to practice with now so that was out of the question. “I’m going to head into town.” Maybe he would visit the training area in one of the parks on the other side and help calm the general populace. Perhaps someone there could provide more information on what happened at the venue. “I’ll catch you later, Kenny.”</p><p>“Don’t do anything reckless.”</p><p>What could possibly go wrong that hadn’t already?</p><p>Walking around in Edinburgh city wasn’t something Johnny did often. His personal servants did the shopping. All he had to do was tell them what to purchase and they’d do all the rest of the work. Only on rare occasions did he visit the city and it was only because the rest of the Majestics were in town. Robert had summoned them for an important meeting outside Oliver’s café, <em>Boulangerie de France. </em></p><p>A thick blanket of dark clouds stretched across the sky. Yet another dismal day in his hometown. Digging his hands into his pocket, Johnny made his way down the street and towards the city centre. Oliver’s café was only a few hundred feet away from Edinburgh Castle. It was in a prime position in the city. All the tourists would stop by after a trip to the castle and be treated to the finest meals in all of Edinburgh. It was peak hour now – there were large crowds of visitors and locals alike walking in all sorts of directions.</p><p>Robert’s unmistakable purple hair could be seen at the counter. Oliver was absent, but he was probably working – when he wasn’t beyblading, Oliver would travel around Europe visiting his restaurants and making sure business was smooth. As for Enrique, the blond seemed to be trying to pick up local girls again. He could Enrique chasing after two girls.</p><p>“I’m sorry, I meant to say you were wicked pretty! Not pretty wicked!” Enrique exclaimed. The two females turned their noses up and stormed off in the opposite direction. Enrique continued to chase after them but stopped moments later to catch his breath and headed inside the restaurant.</p><p>Johnny followed him, snickering to himself. He stepped through the door. The sounds of a hurdy-gurdy filled the room, and the scent of pastries wafted through the air. An attractive brunette sat in the corner on a small podium singing a song he didn’t understand the words too. <em>Boring,</em> he thought. He didn’t care much for the arts. Instead, he approached Enrique. The blond was standing before the fireplace in attempt to keep himself warm.</p><p>“Did you scare them off again? Must be your face.”</p><p>Enrique turned around and glared. “Maybe they saw <em>you </em>and decided to run.”</p><p>“Scottish lasses aren’t like the ones in Italy. Your ones might be wowed by your so-called charm, but the lasses here see right through that,” Johnny replied, strolling up to Enrique, throwing him another smug smirk. Oh, how he loved to make the Italian squirm. “You might want to learn how to form a proper sentence first. Intelligence is an attractive trait.”</p><p>“Explains why <em>you </em>don’t have a girlfriend yet,” the blond retorted, looking down at him.</p><p>A muscle jerked in Johnny’s jaw. Why that smug bastard- “She’s got a face like a bulldog licking piss off a thistle anyway.”</p><p>“That’s rich coming from someone with your face.” Enrique pinned back his shoulders, puffing himself up much like a proud peacock attempting to woo a mate. “They were so into me and then <em>you </em>had to show up. They probably caught your stench from a mile away and ran for the hills.”</p><p>If they had been standing in some quiet alleyway, Johnny would’ve struck him square in the jaw. “Maybe they could smell your desperation and walked away. You’re pathetic, Enrique. There’s a reason you didn’t get to blade against the Bladebreakers all those years ago.”</p><p>The hurdy-gurdy player stopped and watched. Fortunately, no one was present. Robert had booked the entire restaurant for them for the hour, and no one else could dine until they were finished. The advantage of having plenty of money and being friends with the owner – you didn’t have to be harassed by people trying to get photos and autographs while eating, though it didn’t stop people trying to look through the windows.</p><p>“I’m not weak,” Enrique snapped.</p><p>Johnny stabbed a finger in Enrique’s face. “Then why were you left off the team when we battled the Bladebreakers? You want an answer? It’s because you don’t take blading seriously enough.” He gestured towards the girls in the distance. “You’re too busy trying to get fucked. Even now, you’re fucking around. We’ve got a tournament approaching. Take it seriously.”</p><p>“Cease this at once!”</p><p>Ah. Robert. He had been so focused on Enrique that he hadn’t seen the German approaching. Johnny curled back his lower lip, and faced Robert, both hands dug deep into his pockets. “Nice of you too show up.” The man was always finding was to interrupt his fun. He had a natural talent for always showing up when trouble was brewing.</p><p>Robert was not impressed, though he always looked bothered by something, as if he had something stuck up his rear end. “Need I remind you both who we are? We are the Majestics, and we have a reputation to uphold. Look around you. We are champion bladers, and you two are behaving like petty school children.”</p><p>Someone giggled. Johnny whipped his head around towards the source. Some kid had his face pressed up against the window, a phone in his hands. He snapped a quick photo. Johnny pounded the window, and the boy ran down the street. His irritation flared. Fucking cheeky smug bastards.</p><p>“Blame Enrique,” he said, turning back to Robert. Robert’s expression had not changed. It was like he was made of stone.</p><p>“Control yourselves, or I <em>will </em>find replacements for you both.”</p><p>A threat. Through clenched teeth, Johnny said, “You’re threatening us?”</p><p>“Yes. Now sit down and behave like the nobles we are supposed to be.” Robert gestured at the table.</p><p>Blunt but effective, and Johnny found himself obeying. He sat down, folded his arms over his chest, and looked away from Enrique, refusing to make eye contact with the idiotic blond. Enrique did the same then Robert sat down between them, his expression still cold. “So. What’s the big announcement? You got us here for a reason, and I don’t think it was to issue threats,” Johnny said, angling his body away from Enrique so he didn’t have to look at him.</p><p>“We are going to compete in the tournament.”</p><p>Johnny slammed a fist on the table. “Fuck yes! Though that was obvious.”</p><p>“Jonathan,” Robert said, his eyes narrowed. “Language. Do not speak such filth in my presence.”</p><p>His irritation flared. He <em>hated </em>that name. “It’s Johnny. Not Johnathon.”</p><p>“That is your birthname and the name recorded on your passport and birth certificate.”</p><p>Johnny picked up a fork and stabbed it at the table. “So, what is it?”</p><p>Robert helped himself to a jar of water on the table then poured himself a drink. “Did anyone happen to catch the breaking news on the broadcast this morning? I was boarding my private jet when it happened and missed the finer details.”</p><p>Enrique shook his head. “Nope. I don’t watch the news.”</p><p>“Johnathan?”</p><p>His anger spiked. “Like I give a shit?”</p><p>“Perhaps Oliver will know then.”</p><p>“Oh, you’re so hot,” Enrique murmured, glancing down at his phone, the corners of his mouth curved upwards in a grin.</p><p>Johnny rolled his eyes. Idiot. “Oliver probably knows something. He’s been here all morning. You know what he’s like. Always has to be bright and early for everything. Speaking of Oliver, there he is.” Johnny raised a hand in the air and waved out to grab the Frenchman’s attention.</p><p>Oliver was dressed in his usual white chef’s clothing and wearing the silly cap too. Normally, he’d be smiling, but for the first time in a long time, there was a frown on his face. “Oliver!” Enrique exclaimed, glancing up from his phone.</p><p>“What’s wrong with you? Did you watch Bambi’s mother dying again?” Johnny said, still sour. He knew he’d regret not blocking off the entire street to the public. Did everyone exist just to piss him off?</p><p>Oliver approached the table. Now that he was close, Johnny saw the redness in his eyes. The boy had been crying. “Robert, Enrique, and Johnny. It’s a pleasure to meet with you again so soon. I wish I was in a better mood, but tragedy has befallen the community.”</p><p>“What are you talking about?” Johnny demanded.</p><p>The boy raised an eyebrow. “You have not seen the news?”</p><p>Enrique glanced up from his phone. “Nope.”</p><p>“I was boarding my private jet.”</p><p>“The news is full of shit. So, what happened?”</p><p>Oliver wiped his eyes. “Stanley Dickinson was announced dead this morning.”</p><hr/><p>After a few months of silence, the hype surrounding the world tournament had started up again. It was the same pattern every year – qualifying rounds would commence in March and finish late April, and those fortunate enough to make it through represented their countries in June. The tournament lasted four weeks and planning for the next tournament began in September. All teams competing would be announced a week before the tournament was scheduled to begin.</p><p>“So, tell me Tala, are we going to compete or not?” Bryan said, leaning forward on the table. “It’ll be the easiest tournament to compete in without having to worry about the other big four bladers if the rumours are true.”</p><p> Currently, they were back home in Moscow in a small cabin far from the city. There were still groups of people who didn’t trust his team, and rightfully so. Best to distance himself from the public eye, and besides, it was no real loss since he wasn’t one for the social life. “I haven’t given it much thought, but it is tempting to compete in a third world tournament.”</p><p>“I want to compete again,” Bryan said.</p><p>“As do I,” said Spencer.</p><p>Ian nodded. “The last time I competed in a tournament was the first one.”</p><p>Time certainly flew by. “And why do you wish to compete again?” Tala said.</p><p>Bryan made a fist with his right hand. “We were once the most powerful team in the world, and now we’ve been reduced to nothing. That tag-team format they introduced in the third year made us look to be weak – that tournament seemed designed to favour Tyson, Max, Rei and Kai while the rest of us were there for support.” He paused for a brief moment then continued. “We have something to prove to the world that we are a powerful team without the aid of sponsors, coaches and all that shit.”</p><p>“He has a point, Tala. We were the only team to make it to the end without a coach,” Spencer said.</p><p>True. All the other teams had coaches. The BBA Revolution had Hiro, the White Tigers had Tao, the PBB All-Starz had Judy, Barthez Battalion had Barthez, and F-Dynasty had Romero. Even BEGA had a coach. “Fair point raised, Bryan.”</p><p>“Then I vote that we compete and we show the world that we are a team to be reckoned with,” Bryan said, slamming the table with his fist. “Those in favour say, aye.”</p><p>“Aye.”</p><p>“Aye.”</p><p>All three boys looked to Tala for the final confirmation. “That’s three votes, Tala.”</p><p>Some teams disbanded after a failure, but not Tala’s team. They were loyal to the cause because they truly believed victory was within their grasp. Loyalty – it was certainly a thing the other teams could learn about. “Then we shall compete in the tournament once more and show the world what we are truly capable of.”</p><p>“Only one thing one remains, Tala,” Ian started.</p><p>“What’s that?”</p><p>“What do we call ourselves? The Demolition Boys or the Blitzkrieg Boys?”</p><p>Tala leaned back in his chair. “Let’s put it to a vote.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Hearts Divided</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“What do you mean Stanley Dickinson has died?” Enrique repeated, glancing up from his phone. “I didn’t realize he was battling an illness.”</p><p>Oliver wiped his eyes then drew in a breath before exhaling. “He was murdered at a public appearance. Shot dead by a silent assassin.”</p><p>Robert didn’t voice his opinion on the topic, preferring to listen to all the details on the matter. Johnny knew he was deep in thought, most likely running through potential suspects already. Stanley Dickinson shot dead. Why would someone want to kill a man like that unless someone wanted him out of the way for whatever reason?</p><p>“Stanley didn’t harm anyone,” Enrique stated. “What reason would someone have to justify murdering him in cold blood?”</p><p>That was the smartest question Enrique had raised all day. Perhaps he wasn’t so clueless after all. “Because he’s a triple a threat,” Johnny answered. “We didn’t have much to do with Stanley, but you have to admit, he had a lot of influence. The man has relations all around the world. He’s probably the richest man… Well, was. Influence is power.” Perhaps even wealthier than their team combined. That was a worrying thought. “But it shouldn’t concern us. Stanley wasn’t our sponsor.”</p><p>“He’s dead, Johnny,” Oliver said, frowning. “We might not have known the man all that well but pay the man the respect he deserves. He did a lot for the sport.”</p><p>“And made a mess of the third world cup with all those ridiculous new rules,” Johnny said. “We should’ve taken Barthez Battalion’s spot when the allegations of cheating were proven right, but we were refused because it was ‘too late’. I say he just didn’t want us there to mess up his poster boy’s run for another world cup title.” Because really the Majestics were the only team in the world that could hold their own ground against the Bladebreakers.</p><p>“You just want to face Kai again,” Enrique said. “But even so, you won’t get the chance because he’s retired now.”</p><p>“He’ll be back,” Johnny stated. Rumours be damned. “Dickinson dead, beyblading world thrown into chaos… I think now is a great time to come back to the game, and I hope he does. World cup isn’t the same without some half-decent competition. Let’s face it – do we really want to blade in a tournament against amateurs? If it’s just Tyson competing, what’s the point?”</p><p>“Jonathan raises a solid point,” Robert said, finally speaking up. “A world tournament isn’t as challenging if the best bladers aren’t competing. However, on the other hand, we have never competed in such an event before, and I think the rest of the world deserves to know what we are capable of.”</p><p>Enrique nodded. “The last big match I had was against Tyson in Rome. I’m itching for another chance.” He looked to Oliver. “It’s awful Stanley has died, but I think we should continue on the fight. What do you say?”</p><p>The boy’s eyes were red. A new flood of tears rolled down his pallid cheeks. “What difference does fighting make? It’s not going to bring him back.”</p><p>“Hold yourself together,” Johnny snapped. “Don’t go spilling tears.”</p><p>Enrique glared. “I think Oliver has a perfectly good reason to be upset. Show a little bit of compassion, Johnny. Or at least try to. It won’t kill you.”</p><p>“Save it for the bedroom where no one can see him make an embarrassment of himself,” Johnny retorted. He then looked to Robert for some support. “You have sense. Tell him to stop crying like a little girl.”</p><p>Surely Robert, the most level-headed of the group, would see this as an embarrassment of the team? He always prided himself on remaining calm and in control. Allowing emotions to takeover only led to embarrassing scenes like this. If Oliver had been a girl such an act would be acceptable, but coming from a male? Unacceptable!</p><p>“Oliver, you must try to hold it together. I understand you are upset, but we must remain strong,” Robert said calmly.</p><p>Johnny couldn’t see any media hounds, but they were probably outside somewhere, waiting for them to leave them since they had nothing better to do with their miserable lives than make up stories and spread false gossip. What would they come up with this time? “Finally, some fucking sense.”</p><p>“Johnathan! Do not use such uncouth language!”</p><p>“Oh, get over it, Robert. It’s just a word.”</p><p>“And we do not behave like the commonfolk.”</p><p>Enrique snorted. “Too late for that.”</p><p>“Shut it, blondie.”</p><p>Oliver slammed both hands down on the table. The table shook with enough force the water in Johnny’s glass poured over the side. “You are all missing the point. Stanley died. A loved and well-respected member of the beyblading family. Someone wanted him dead. To eliminate the competition.”</p><p>“And? Someone else will just take over,” Johnny said.</p><p>“You’re suggesting something sinister here at work,” Robert mused.</p><p>“Someone with money.” Enrique leaned forward, elbows resting on the table. “A sniper. That’s some serious stuff there. Military trained. Someone was paid a lot of money. Who the hell would take a task like that on without a good financial deal?”</p><p>The blond was an idiot most of the time, but sometimes he came up with stuff that was surprisingly perceptive. “It’s not really a well thought out plan though,” Johnny started, cleaning up the spill. “So, he kills Stanley. What does he gain out of it? It’s not the like the BBA is just going to collapse.”</p><p>“But it’s effective,” Robert replied. “Someone else rises through the ranks and takes the top job. We could have another Boris-like situation on our hands – someone could destroy everything the BBA stands for. They would have all the resources available to them to use at their will.”</p><p>Johnny furrowed his brows. “…Maybe it’s a distraction then. Maybe Stanley knew something. Knew too much and had to be eliminated from the game.” A game of thrones, and only one person would remain standing.</p><p>“It’s possible.”</p><p>“So, what do we do?”</p><p>Robert sighed. “We can’t do anything. Not yet. We don’t know enough. It could still be a freak accident – a random stroke of poor luck. But I think it is highly likely Stanley was involved in something dangerous. Keep your eyes peeled and be on your guard.”</p><p>“Should we still risk competing then?” Enrique said.</p><p>“Yes. It would be nice to socialize with the other teams again. We don’t really have much of the opportunity to do so with our busy lives.”</p><p>Johnny raised a brow. “You want to associate with the commonfolk? And you lecture me on being uncouth.” He then flared his nostrils. Uncouth. What a word.</p><p>“That’s because you are,” Enrique pointed out. “You are uncivilized.”</p><p>“Keep talking and you’ll soon be paying for some new teeth.”</p><p>Enrique sank back in his chair. “…So much for a pleasant reunion…”</p><p>“Enrique, stop provoking him,” Robert stated as calmly as ever. He grabbed the menu of the table, opened it, and scanned the list of items. “And Jonathan, please. The restaurant might be closed off to the public right now, but they can still see us through the windows as they pass by.”</p><p>“It’s not my fault he’s so sensitive,” Enrique protested.</p><p>“I am <em>not </em>sensitive!”</p><p>Enrique held out a hand. “See what I mean?”</p><p>Johnny gripped the edges of the table so firmly his knuckles were stinging. “Maybe if you stopped talking, I wouldn’t have anything to complain about!”</p><p>“Maybe you should stop replying to every comment I make.”</p><p>“And give you the satisfaction of feeling like you’ve won? Ha! Never!”</p><p>Enrique raised his hands. “Why does everything have to be a battle with you?”</p><p>Molten lava poured through him. He didn’t stop to think. He just reacted. With a growl, he lunged across the table and swung a fist, desperate to wipe that stupid smirk of Enrique’s dumb face. His left elbow knocked the glass bottle down. Water poured across the table.</p><p>Enrique jerked back, narrowing avoiding his fist. “Hey, what the hell?!” He surged to his feet.</p><p>Robert was on his feet in a flash. He grabbed his arm, his hold firm. “Johnathan! Leave at once.”</p><p>It was like a bolt of lightning had hit the room. A deathly silence. Johnny wrenched himself free of Robert’s hold and glared at him then regretted it almost immediately. Robert’s eyes were like black fire. A sight rarely seen. “Robert-”</p><p>Robert pointed to the door. “I will be cancelling your flight. You will have to organize it yourself now if you wish to compete in the tournament. This petulance will not be tolerated. Go.”</p><p>“Are you shitting me?” Was this really happening? Had Robert just sent him <em>away?</em></p><p>“Leave at once. Do not make me ask you again.”</p><p>He hated them all. Every. Single. One. “I can’t believe this.”</p><p>“Go.”</p><p>Johnny backed away from the table and flipped his middle finger. “You know what? Fuck you. Fuck this bullshit about being a team because we’re not one and you know it!” But why stop now? It wasn’t like he could rewind the clock and go back in time. Maybe he was acting like a petulant child throwing a temper tantrum, but he was past the point of caring now.</p><p>“Jonathan…” Robert started.</p><p>“Just shut up! Shut the fuck up! I don’t want to hear another one of your lame lectures on being an upstanding citizen! I don’t answer to you – or anyone else for that matter! The Majestics competing as a team for the tournament is just a dream, Robert. I’m done with this shit.”</p><p>Blood pounding in his head, Johnny turned his back and stormed off, making sure to slam the door as forcefully as he could.</p><hr/><p>Another year, another new tournament. Usually, Kai would feel a spark of excitement at the word tournament, but this time there was no fire burning in his belly. That desire to hold the trophy and show it off to the world wasn’t there. What was the point? Tyson had defeated him at his best. To carry on fighting an uphill battle was pointless. The war had been won, and he was on the losing side.</p><p>He didn’t know what the rest of his teammates were planning on doing. Even though he tolerated their presence, he preferred to keep out of the public eye, trying to limit his attendance at public events. To be beneath the spotlight and constantly followed by cameras wasn’t a life he desired, and so he chose to find comfort in the shadows. Perhaps he would’ve attended more events if money was an issue, but he had inherited Voltaire’s fortune after the man had been sent to jail for life.</p><p>He had all the money in the world, but he still felt he lacked something, and he wasn’t sure what it was. It was like a gnawing pit of hunger in his stomach that just wouldn’t go away, no matter how much he ate, as if his stomach was always empty. Just as empty as this park was now.</p><p>Kai was at the park where Mr. Dickinson had been shot dead just hours ago. What was once a blossoming park had now become a graveyard for a cruel murder. The trees were in full blossom now, and normally there’d be large crowds admiring them, but now the petals fell in silence.</p><p>He walked over to the stage where the man had been shot. He climbed over the police tape and kneeled at the place the man had died, then glanced up. The news had stated Mr. Dickenson had been taken down by a sniper. The man must’ve been hiding in one of the apartment buildings that had a clear view. One bullet, one pull of the trigger, and death had followed shortly afterwards.</p><p>Another player in the game. Someone who obviously saw the chairman as a threat. Someone who felt he was so dangerous that he needed to be taken out of the game permanently. But who? Who would be so desperate to commit such a vile act? Voltaire was rumoured to be behind bars (and reported dead by many sources though Kai wasn’t so sure about that), and nor could it be Boris because he was behind bars too.</p><p>Barthez was also in jail, and Gideon had died during their time on that island a few years back. Dr. Zagart? He was the man responsible for releasing powerful bitbeasts from a rock, but his intentions had been noble, despite being a little twisted and extreme. The man had only wanted to save his son.</p><p>Someone else from the abbey, perhaps? A loose bolt. He wouldn’t be surprised considering the history of that place. More madmen inspired by Boris and Voltaire might’ve carried out this act to make a name for themselves and secure a place in history for all the wrong reasons. For once in his life, he didn’t have the answers or any theories, and that unnerved him.</p><p>“Kai?”</p><p>Kai heard his name and turned around. Tyson, the reigning world champion. Once upon a time he had been envious of the boy’s natural skill, but now he had come to admire him for his talents. “Tyson,” Kai acknowledged with a slight tilt of his head. “I wasn’t expecting your ugly mug.”</p><p>Tyson chuckled. “My adoring fans would disagree with you. I’m quite handsome.”</p><p>“Ah,” Kai replied with a grin. “I must remind myself to buy you a dictionary for your birthday. Your understanding doesn’t quite match up with the listed one.”</p><p>Tyson gasped. “Did you just smile? I was worried your face might crack.”</p><p>“Smiling?” Kai shook his head. “I was just stretching my face muscles.” The amused smirk from Tyson’s face faded. Harmless banter now aside, it was time to focus on the more urgent matters.</p><p>“You heard about it too then. Why else would you be here right now?” Tyson said, glancing down at the place of death. “What do you think happened?”</p><p>“I’d say it was planned. Someone wanted Stanley dead, and now was the perfect time to strike.” Kai looked back at Tyson meeting his dark eyes with his own. “Kill the man just as the rules for the upcoming tournament have been shared. Kill him as the hype builds. What a better way to throw the blading world into chaos and unsettle a global audience?”</p><p>Tyson rubbed the bridge of his nose, frowning. “You think there’s going to be more attacks, don’t you?”</p><p>There was a long pause before he answered again. “Yes, and I think it will happen when all the hype has died down. I think another attack against the BBA will happen just as soon as we become comfortable again.”</p><p>“Any theories as to who it could be?”</p><p>Kai shook his head. “No. All possible suspects are in jail or at a rehabilitation clinic.”</p><p>Tyson sighed. “So we know nothing. That’s a great start.”</p><p>“We’ll find something. We just have to look for it.”</p><p>Tyson raised a brow. “We don’t even know where to start.”</p><p>“Give it some time, Tyson. Someone will find something and that’ll be enough for us to learn more.” Kai turned his head to the side. “You need to watch yourself or you could end up like that too.”</p><p>“You really think they’ll come after us?”</p><p>Kai looked up again. “Come on, Tyson. You’re not stupid. The BBA is most recognized name in the world of beyblading. Who doesn’t want something from the company? The BBA may have no leader, but they still have power, money and influence, many things a lot of people want for themselves. If I were in your shoes, I would distance myself from the BBA until this problem is resolved.”</p><p>As expected, Tyson forced a laugh. “Keep my distance from the BBA? I know you don’t joke often, but I really hope this is one of those rare occasions.”</p><p>“Think about it. You are the BBA’s poster boy, Tyson. You’re the number one target now. Enemies of the BBA will want to target you and your allies next. I know you want to defend your title, but is it worth the risk of losing your life?” Tyson didn’t reply. He was thinking hard about Kai’s words. That’s one thing Kai liked about Tyson – he was willing to listen.</p><p>“You’re suggesting that I withdraw from the tournament?”</p><p>“It’s a good idea. Declare yourself an enemy to the BBA. Cut off all ties with the organization, and you won’t be a threat. Whoever did this didn’t like what the BBA represented.”</p><p>“That’s insane.” He shook his head. “I won’t do it. I can’t turn my back. Mr. Dickinson made me who I am today, Kai. Turning against the BBA would be like… spitting on his grave and defacing it.”</p><p>Kai took one step towards Tyson, closing the distance between them, his eyes fixed on Tyson’s face. He had to make the boy see reason. “You’re not the only one who was given a chance, Tyson. Stanley changed me as a person too. He brought a divided team together and gave us the chance to compete in a global tournament. He’s given me more chances than I deserve, but this is the only way I can think of that will protect us. We can’t do anything to help the BBA if we are buried six feet under.”</p><p>Silence again. Tyson was obviously still deep in thought. After a few moments, he spoke up again. “You should blade in the tournament. I know you don’t want to but think about it.”</p><p>“I have nothing left to prove.”</p><p>“You just said Mr. Dickinson changed your life. So, fight for him. For justice. He would’ve wanted you to continue the battle and find the truth.” He made a fist and held it up before him. “We <em>will </em>have justice.”</p><p>Typical Tyson. He would never give up without a fight. Perhaps he had been wrong to retire from professional beyblading. The fire still burned in Tyson. The passion could be ignited in him too. “This might be a battle we can’t win.”</p><p>Tyson looked at him. “I’m not going to give up. I’m a world champion. I didn’t get my title by throwing in the towel when things got tough. Are you with me? Because I know you aren’t a quitter, Kai. I’m not going to stop you if you choose to walk, but this fight will be much better with you at our side.”</p><p>Kai sighed. “You make a convincing argument, Tyson. How could I refuse?” Well, that was a short retirement. So much for seeking comfort in the shadows where it was peaceful. “Fine. I’ll battle in the tournament. But I think you’re making a big mistake.”</p><p>“Did you ever know me to not make risky plays?”</p><p>“That’s true. I’ll see you later then. I’ve got business elsewhere.”</p><p>Without giving Tyson a chance to reply, Kai turned his heel and retreated into the shadows.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. A Clash of Wills</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Mystel re-adjusted the golden mask on his face as he made his way to the remains of the Bega Headquarters. Months had long since passed since Bega’s downfall, but there were people who still lived in fear of the name. To avoid unnecessary conflict, Mystel shielded his face with his golden mask, only removing it when he was in the presence of someone he trusted.</p><p>Mariah was one of those people. Despite Lee’s hostility towards him, Mystel had persevered with building a friendship with Mariah over the past couple of months. All she had to do was send a friendly text his way, and he’d come running, drawn to her as if she were a magnet. She was simply intoxicating, and just thinking about her put his mind at ease. Perhaps it was a mistake to drop his guard when he was around her, but he couldn’t find it within himself to pull away.</p><p>Her long curls of pink hair fell down her back, bouncing with each step she made, her eyes alight with excitement and intelligence. She was wearing a pink tank top and matching pink shorts. Often, people would laugh behind her back about her clothing colour preferences, but he wasn’t fussed. In fact, it only made her more likable in his eyes because it was a telling sign that she didn’t allow others negative comments influence her thoughts.</p><p>“I’m surprised you’re here,” Mystel said, removing his mask.</p><p>Mariah smiled. “I would never turn down an opportunity to spend time with you, Mystel,” she said softly, taking a seat on the wooden bench beneath a gnarled tree. “But how are you even managing? I mean, financially. I can’t forever keep flying to Japan and back.”</p><p>He sighed. “Worried your brother or Tao might get suspicious?” Lee was the typical over-protective brother, always worried someone would take advantage of his baby sister. It was pathetic, really – after all, Mariah was seventeen and old enough to make decisions on her own – but she was hopelessly devoted to him.</p><p>Mariah patted the space next to her. He took that as an invitation to sit down as well. “My brother doesn’t <em>hate </em>you.”</p><p>“Hate no, but dislike? Yes.”</p><p>She sighed. “Lee’s heart is in the right place. He wants what’s best for me.”</p><p>“And that’s me staying away from you which is why it’s a risk flying here and back.”</p><p>“It’s not like that at all,” she defended, one brow furrowed. “He’s just… a little shaken after the whole Bega incident, and I can’t really blame him. When it was made known Boris was the mastermind of Bega, it made quite many us fearful of you.”</p><p>Mystel rolled his eyes. It always came back to Boris. What exactly had the old man done that earned him so much hatred? “So, you all wrongly assumed the worst in us? We all joined Bega for different reason, Mariah. Hell, we didn’t even know anything about Boris’s history when he sent us the invitations. I still don’t know much about it, and I don’t really care. It’s in the past.”</p><p>“It’s hard to shake what happened.”</p><p>“But now that’s behind us and we should look forward to what the future may bring.”</p><p>She raised a hand and ran her fingertips through her pink tresses of hair, then sighed. “I’m not blaming you. I don’t hold you at fault for anything that happened, but my brother…” Another sharp intake of breath, then she added, “He has a hard time letting go of grudges.”</p><p>“We don’t need to worry about Boris or anyone else like that anymore,” Mystel said, tilting his head to the side. “Shall we change the topic? Talking about old men is quite depressing especially on a brilliant day such as this,” he said, gesturing towards the clear-blue sky.</p><p>“The tournament. Are you competing?”</p><p>Ah yes, the upcoming beyblade tournament. The team had debated the issue for the past several weeks. Ming Ming and Crusher were both in favour of it, and Garland and Brooklyn were not. It had been up to Mystel to cast the final vote and he voted against it. What was the point? What else did they need to prove? Who really cared about winning a piece of silverware anyway? It’s not like it improved your health or anything. It just brought more public attention to yourself and sometimes that was more of a curse than a blessing. No. Once was enough.</p><p>He shook his head. “We argued about it for weeks but in the end, we decided against it. We wouldn’t have the funding anyway to support us. Not every team is given a big grant to survive the journey.” Unlike Tyson and his friends. No other team received any special funding from the BBA. They had to make do on their own.</p><p>There was actual disappointment in Mariah’s eyes. “Oh, that’s a shame. It would’ve been nice to battle against your team.”</p><p>“Except we’re not really a team,” he corrected. She raised a brow. “Garland, Ming Ming and Crusher are okay and all, but Brooklyn… is Brooklyn. He talks to you when he wants something, and even then, he’s not pleasant about it.”</p><p>“Can’t you just do your own thing?”</p><p>“It’s hard to go back to the lives we had before we became popular for all the wrong reasons.” Most employees were terrified they would blow up the building. Others believed they still had connections with Boris and were spying for him, waiting for the right moment to strike back. It made finding a job or a sponsor difficult. “Best we stick together now and hope for the best.”</p><p>“Why did you enter the tournament then? You knew it was going to change your life forever.”</p><p>He shrugged. “I ask myself that every day. Why did I compete in such an important tournament featuring the biggest battles of all blading history knowing quite well what it would entail?” He glanced down at his lap and drew in a deep breath then exhaled. “It was a chance to try something new. When the opportunity is there, you take it, right? You don’t think about the consequences. You just do it and worry about it later.”</p><p>Currently, he was living with his team in a small dodgy house in the countryside. Most of the windows didn’t close properly, and the door’s hinges were so broken they had to push the cupboard in front of it to stop it from swinging open. But it was quiet, and the less people he had to deal with, the better for his mental health. Money was made by teaching other countryfolk how to blade, but it wasn’t enough to live a decent life. It took a month to save up for a game of bowling. That’s how dire things were.</p><p>“You know if you ever need any help, you could always ask.”</p><p>He shook his head. “I appreciate the offer, but we’ll make it through this.”</p><p>At least he hoped they did. Perhaps this was how the Blitzkrieg Boys felt after their tournament with Boris at the helm. The entire world would’ve been against them, and they too, would’ve been struggling financially to survive each day. He wondered how they did it. He was about to speak further when he felt a vibration in his right pocket. He took the phone out, entered his pass code and brought up the message.</p><p>“Something wrong?”</p><p>Mystel read the text. <em>We’re playing a round of bowling tonight. You know where to go. Garland expects you to be there, so don’t be too late – Brooklyn. </em>One of Garland’s ‘team bonding’ activities. The man was determined to make things work, and he felt if they became close friends, somehow their lives would turn around for the better.</p><p>Putting his phone away, he stood up from the chair and glanced down at Mariah. “Garland’s called a team meeting. We’ll be debating about what we should eat tonight. Same time next week, yeah?”</p><p>She nodded, also rising to her feet. “Of course.” She wrapped her arms around him, embraced him for a few moments then pulled away. “Just remember, if you need help, we’ll be there to lend a hand.”</p><p>“I’ll keep that in mind.”</p><p>She stepped back. “Bye, Mystel.”</p><p>“Bye, Mariah.”</p><hr/><p>There was no other place quite like home. Mariah and her brother had returned to the White Tiger Hills to pay their grandfather a visit. It had been months since they last returned, and Lee figured it could be quite some time before they had another chance to visit home. The village itself was based in the mountains far away from the hustle and bustle of city life.</p><p>It was the perfect place for training as there were no distractions. No computers. No video gaming consoles. No electricity. Everything out here had to be done in the traditional methods of their ancestors, and she believed that gave her team a stronger mental edge in battles. Those who didn’t understand this claimed they were ‘old-fashioned’ and a little ‘backwards’, but Mariah never let those comments get to her. Without their unique background, she doubted they would even be in the top blading teams in the world.</p><p>There was something relaxing about being surrounded by the wilderness. Something beautiful. Something you couldn’t get by living in the city. They had peace here in the hills. Every morning she’d wake up to the sounds of bird song. In the evening, she’d have the best view of the sun dipping below the horizon. When she needed time to herself, she visited the waterfall and listened to the soothing sounds of water. It certainly beat anything the city could offer.</p><p>“Grandfather needs to speak with you about something,” Lee said, walking towards the main wooden cabin.</p><p>“You know about it?”</p><p>He nodded. “I’ve heard bits and pieces, but I don’t know the fine details.”</p><p>The cabin was in the centre of the village marked by a single mailbox. As they neared the building, she spotted a two young children run past, chasing after an out of control beyblade. She smiled to herself. The next generation of bladers of the White Tiger tribe. She remembered spending countless hours struggling to get her blade right. It wasn’t until Rei took over her training that she finally mastered the basics of blading.</p><p>“Go on in,” Lee said, pushing open the door. “I’ll wait outside.”</p><p>Mariah walked through the door and closed it. The cabin was small. No bigger than a typical children’s bedroom in a house in the city. It was also quite simple. No table. No bed. Just a mattress on the floor, a photo of the team on the eastern wall, and a couple of books. It was hard to believe she had spent most of the life here in the village with the most basic of items.</p><p>“Grandfather, you wanted to speak with me?”</p><p>The old man was sitting on the middle of the floor, his legs crossed, and arms folded over his chest. The man was in his last few years of life. It had become more difficult for him to walk, and carry out basic tasks, but his mind was as sharp as ever. He smiled and motioned for her to sit down across from him. She did as directed, and sat down cross-legged.</p><p>“It’s good to see you again, Mariah.”</p><p>“And it’s good to see you too, grandfather.”</p><p>“I wanted to speak with you about the future. About the future of this tribe.”</p><p>She raised a brow. “What do you mean?”</p><p>“You know that I am nearing the end of my days, and I want you and Lee to carry on my legacy.”</p><p>“We won’t disappoint you.”</p><p>“That includes carrying on the line,” he said.</p><p>She raised her other brow. “Come again?”</p><p>He cleared his throat. “You’ve achieved a lot in the past few years, Mariah. The White Tigers are known throughout the world as one of the best teams thanks to your efforts. But not only that, you’ve kept the team together. You’ve reminded them of what teamwork and friendship is all about. You’ve keep the spirit of the White Tiger alive, and that is why I have arranged for you to marry Rei.”</p><p>Wait. Marriage? She was only seventeen years of age, and her grandfather was speaking of marriage? Maybe his mind wasn’t that sharp after all. “But the world tournament. I want to compete.”</p><p>“And that is fine. This marriage won’t take place until after this year.”</p><p>She forced a laugh. “Marriage?” she repeated. Marry Rei? She might’ve had a crush on him (what girl didn’t?) when she was a young girl, but those feelings had long since gone, and she was certain he felt the same way. “I’m seventeen, grandfather.”</p><p>“And at seventeen years of age, you’re almost considered an adult. You’ll be of legal age come your eighteenth birthday.”</p><p>Her thoughts drifted to Mystel. Marrying Rei meant she’d have to stop communicating with him. She’d have to cut him out of her life forever because a disloyalty was frowned upon. A wife of the White Tiger tribe had to be completely devoted to her husband. She was not allowed to spend time with other men unless her husband was in the room as well.</p><p>“You can’t ask this of me.”</p><p>The man frowned. “I am not asking this of you. It had already been decided the day you were born.”</p><p>The marriage had already been organized for that long? Did that mean… did that mean Rei had been was forced to become her personal trainer at a young age as a way of bringing them closer together? “You can’t just… do that,” she replied, feeling her stomach churn.</p><p>“But Mariah, it’s Rei. You’ve always liked Rei. As a young girl, you said you were going to marry Rei,” he said, frowning, as if he couldn’t understand why Mariah was upset.</p><p>“That was a long time ago, grandfather. People change. Feelings change.”</p><p>His frown remained. “It doesn’t have anything to do with that boy, Mystel does it?”</p><p>“Wh-what?” He knew about that? Mystel had only visited the White Tiger Hills just once.</p><p>“Your brother told me.”</p><p>She narrowed her eyes, her shock fading, replaced by a growing sense of irritation. Of course, Lee would intervene and tell their grandfather about the blond from Bega. Anything to discourage her from seeing Mystel. She closed her eyes and took in a deep breath. <em>Keep calm, Mariah, </em>she told herself. <em>You’ll get a chance to speak to him later.</em></p><p>“I do not want to discourage you from having friends, Mariah, but he is not one of us.”</p><p>“I can’t believe you,” she said. “You’re arranging my marriage without even checking with me to see if it’s okay! What if I don’t want to marry, Rei?”</p><p>“Then I will have no choice but to disown you. You will not be recognized as a member of the White Tiger tribe. It will be like you never even existed,” he replied calmly. “Please Mariah, don’t be difficult. It’s Rei you are to marry. He is a good man, and he’ll make a fine husband to you.”</p><p>She wanted to barf, but fought back the urge to do so. He didn’t even care. Her own grandfather didn’t care about what she wanted. He was thinking of the future of the tribe, and his family line, but not about the wishes of his own grandchildren. But she couldn’t refuse. How could she? Refusing and running away would only banish her from the tribe.</p><p>“I’m going to get some fresh air,” she said, rising to her feet. Before he could get in another word, Mariah left the cabin, relieved to have gotten out. If she stayed in there for a few moments longer, she knew she’d say something she’d later regret. Lee was outside waiting. He smiled at her, but she didn’t return it.</p><p>“Mariah? What’s the matter?”</p><p>“Why do you hate him so much?” she demanded, storming over to him, pointing a finger at her brother.</p><p>He frowned. “Who?”</p><p>“Mystel!” she blurted. Several heads in the village turned. “He did nothing to you and yet you hate him. He’s my friend, Lee. You can’t stop me from being friends with someone.” Fortunately, they were wise enough to keep their distance. That was one another thing she liked about her people – your privacy was considered special. In the city, people would intervene at random, but that was considered rude here.</p><p>Lee brought a hand to his forehead and rubbed it. “Because he’s not good for you, Mariah. I’m looking out for you, trying to protect you like an older brother should.”</p><p>Placing a hand on her hip, she said, “What? Because he was part of the Bega League and served Boris for some time? He didn’t even know anything about the man, and only joined because it was something new to him.” If Mystel had known about Boris beforehand, she doubted he’d join.</p><p>“How could anyone not know about Boris? It was global news, Mariah! The entire world knew about it! He’s known as the world’s greatest criminal mastermind!”</p><p>True. Fair point raised but Mystel had been on the road for a long time. She doubted he bothered to read the local paper in the towns, and had a hard time picturing him sitting down inside a café reading the paper. He also didn’t carry a handheld device that could access the internet. He seemed like the type to enjoy the simple things in life.</p><p>“Well, he didn’t know.”</p><p>“That might be so, but it doesn’t change the fact that he worked for Boris. When Boris’s true intentions were revealed, he still stayed. Have you forgotten what Boris did all those years ago? Look what he did to the Demolition Boys! Look at what happened to Kai! Look what he did to all the teams who had their bitbeasts stolen!” He lowered his voice and sighed again. “I’m just saying Mariah, you can’t trust someone who worked for Boris.”</p><p>“I appreciate you trying to look after me, Lee, but I’m not a little girl anymore, Lee. I can handle myself, and that means choosing who I want to spend time with.” She bit down on her bottom lip, feeling tears threatening to spill. It was something she had never been able to control well. When faced with conflict, the tears would always threaten to spill. “It may be hard for you to understand, but people do change.”</p><p>“Mari-”</p><p>She raised a hand, extending the palm towards him. “I don’t want to hear it. I want to go back home. Our other home. We have a tournament to focus on.”</p><p>His shoulders slumped. Maybe she had been a little too harsh on him, but he’d understand. Siblings always fought. Sometimes, a bit of conflict was good. Lee was as stubborn as a mule, but in a few days he’d come to realize he didn’t need to protect her. “All right. We’ll return home.”</p><hr/><p>The Blitzkrieg Boys (now renamed as the Demolition Boys) had arrived in Japan. Kai noticed the status update on Bey Network, the number one social networking site for bladers all around the world. That could only mean one thing – Tala and his friends were interested in participating in the upcoming world tournament, and he knew exactly where to find them.</p><p>Their accommodation was nothing more than an old apartment block in the shady part of town. It was the same place they had stayed at previously. Only the brave would walk the streets after the sun dipped below horizon for unruly bladers would prowl the streets, searching for easy victims to steal off. They were yet to have been given an official name, but Kai called them ‘wild bladers’. Wild bladers were hunters. They worked in pairs, sometimes groups of threes, prowling the streets at night, waiting to ambush an unsuspecting victim.</p><p>In some ways, they reminded him of the infamous parts hunting duo, King and Queen. It had been two years since he had last seen them, but he hadn’t forgotten losing to the pair. The duo had since disappeared after the second tournament, and Kai hoped to never cross paths with them again.</p><p>Pushing grim thoughts aside, Kai curled his fingers into a fist then knocked on the door three times once again. He waited what seemed like minutes when the door opened, revealing Ian, the youngest member of the team. That was a face he hadn’t seen in years. What exactly had the boy been doing?</p><p>“Kai, we meet again,” Ian said, glancing up at him, a smug smirk plastered on his face. He pulled the door back, stepped aside and allowed Kai in before closing it behind him.</p><p>The apartment’s exterior was nothing to be boastful of, but its interior was surprisingly half-decent. It wasn’t exactly large, but there was enough space for four people. A glass table for four separated the kitchen and the lounge. A leather couch was pressed up against a cream-coloured wall positioned beneath a large painting of the outback. Opposite to the couch was a seventy inch plasma television screen sitting on top a black table.</p><p>“Tala, he’s here!” Ian crowed. He moved towards the couch and flopped down on it, crossing his right leg over his left.</p><p>Moments later, Tala appeared. He was accompanied by Bryan and Spencer. “Look what the cat dragged in,” Bryan commented sourly. There was no love between Kai, Bryan and Spencer. Relations had soured after an intense training session which had left the two bladers unconscious on the floor. Kai hadn’t even bothered to check up on them afterwards.</p><p>Kai ignored them. Tala was the only reason he had come to this part of town. “Did you come here looking to strike a deal with us again?” The red-headed blader asked. His arms were folded across his chest, and his eyes were narrowed with suspicion. As welcoming as ever.</p><p>“I have no interest in joining with you again, Tala,” Kai replied calmly.</p><p>“Then why have you come? I can’t imagine you came all this way out of the goodness of your heart.”</p><p>Kai took a step closer. His eyes didn’t miss the clenching of fists from both Spencer and Bryan. <em>So, that’s how it is,</em> Kai thought. <em>You still don’t trust me… and I don’t suppose I’ve ever given you a reason to. </em>“I’m here because I thought you might like to know about the recent turn in events. Spencer, Bryan, I suggest you lower your fists… I’m not here to cause trouble.”</p><p>The two bladers looked to Tala. Tala nodded. They relaxed – but only just. Kai was sure if Tala gave the order, Bryan and Spencer would not hesitate to launch their blades at him. Their devotion to Tala was fascinating, and something his mind struggled to comprehend. Why hadn’t they ever shown such loyalty towards him? “Speak.”</p><p>“Stanley’s been shot dead. He was murdered in broad daylight just a few days ago during a public event.”</p><p>Tala raised a brow. “So, the old man has finally dropped dead. I don’t see why this concerns us – we have no ties to the BBA.”</p><p>“It should concern you because it means there’s another player in the game,” Kai explained, moving closer still. Now he was just an arm’s reach from his former teammate. “Someone who wanted the BBA out of the way permanently. What better way to achieve that than to shoot the man behind the organization dead?”</p><p>Ian sat up, brows furrowed. “You don’t think it was Boris, do you?”</p><p>Kai shook his head. “As delusional as Boris was, I doubt he’d shoot someone dead. That’s not his style. Besides, he’s behind bars and no one can see him. There’s no way he can pull the strings there.” His preferred method was mind games and tricks. The man had a natural way with words. “It can’t be Voltaire either. He is still behind bars.” He knew this because the man often sent him letters to ‘meet up’.</p><p>“A former Biovolt employee?” Spencer said. “Boris can’t have been the only madman in the organization.”</p><p>It was possible. Perhaps a few of them had taken inspiration from Boris and decided to do something on their own. But the timing was all wrong. If this was a former Biovolt person causing problems, then why hadn’t he pulled this stunt earlier?</p><p>“Possible, but I don’t think Biovolt is behind this,” Kai replied. “They wouldn’t wait this long to strike back. Are you sure you want to compete in the upcoming tournament?”</p><p>“Nothing will change our minds, Kai. You of all people should know that,” Tala answered. “But then again, you were never the one to concern yourself with the thoughts and feelings of those around you.”</p><p>Resentment? Jealousy? Did Tala still bear a grudge against him after all these long years? Kai narrowed his eyes. “And what is that supposed to mean?”</p><p>“You left Bryan and Spencer unconscious on the floor in a private training room,” Tala pointed out. “You didn’t tell me where you had taken my teammates. I reported them missing, and it took hours for the security to locate them. Fortunately, Bryan and Spencer sustained only minor injuries, but it could’ve been a lot worse.”</p><p>“Tala, we were training. They agreed.”</p><p>“That doesn’t excuse you leaving them injured.”</p><p>Kai sighed. “They were fine, Tala. They weren’t in danger of dying.”</p><p>“I don’t appreciate you using my team to further your own ambition. You didn’t even ask me. We were supposed to be a team – but you continue to hide secrets from me.”</p><p>Kai snorted. He couldn’t help it. “Your team? If I remember correctly, we were both part of the Blitzkrieg Boys, and I brought the team to the finals.” If not for his efforts, the Blitzkrieg Boys would’ve been lucky to get past the White Tigers. Tala hadn’t exactly been impressive, and his loss to Garland was embarrassing.</p><p>“You might have been part of the Blitzkrieg Boys, Kai, but you were never one of us. You haven’t the understanding of what it means to be part of a team because loyalty isn’t something you can comprehend,” Tala retorted, his voice doubling in volume. “You switch teams whenever the opportunity to further your own ambition arises. Maybe you’re not so different from grandfather, after all.”</p><p>Kai tightened his jaw. A bubbling pit of anger stirred in his stomach. To bring Voltaire into a conversation and compare that… that monster to himself? “I am nothing like Voltaire,” he hissed. “Voltaire wanted was best for himself. He used others to achieve his goals without care for anyone else.” <em>He used me to carry out his mad plans, and I was a fool to believe in him, </em>he thought.</p><p>“And how is that any different to your actions, Kai? You turned your back on Biovolt twice. You turned your back on the Bladebreakers several times. You turned your back on Bega. You turned your back on us. How long until you abandon the Bladebreakers again. Betrayal is in your blood, Kai.” Bryan, Spencer, and Ian remained silent, allowing Tala to do all the talking, but judging by the hard expressions on their faces, they shared the same opinions as Tala. “And I would be a fool to extend a hand of friendship towards you again.”</p><p>“I came here to warn you about a possible threat.”</p><p>“And I appreciate that, Kai, but we can fend for ourselves. We’re not as weak as you think us to be.”</p><p>Why had he bothered visiting the Blitzkrieg Boys again? What a waste of his time this had been. “Fine. Have it your way. I’ll see myself out.” He turned his back and headed for the door, feeling their eyes watching him retreat. He was not Voltaire. The man didn’t deserve to have his name in the same sentence as his own.</p><p>“And don’t come back. You’re not one of us, and you never will be.”</p><p>Kai slammed the door shut.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. The End is Nigh</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Thanks to the people who have placed a kudos on this story! Much appreciated!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Tendrils encircled his body, curling around him like a snake suffocating its prey. One tendril wrapped around his neck like a noose, tightening its hold until he started to gasp for air. He reached his hands to the nothingness before him, as if he could grab hold of something to wield as a weapon. But nothing came to his aid.</p><p>“Hello?” He called out into the darkness, hearing his own voice repeat several times over. His heart race quickened, an icy shudder running down his spine. “Is anyone else here?”</p><p>No other response other than his own voice repeating the words back, but it was enough to drive the tendrils back. Frowning, he took a few steps forward, keeping one hand resting on his bey launcher. A dream. It had to be a dream. The real world didn’t look like this. Everywhere was dark like the black of night. As he moved forward, he felt invisible tendrils wrap around his legs, but they did not hinder his movements.</p><p>
  <em>Come closer.</em>
</p><p>He brought a free hand to his chest, feeling the frenzied thumping of his heart. A dream, but it felt real. Something crawled down his back. He spun around on his heels, and raised his blade and launcher, ready to attack but there was nothing. Only blackness. Chest muscles tightening, he stopped moving, daring not to move.</p><p> “Hello?” he said. Someone had spoken, yet he could not see anyone. He looked to his left and right, but all he could see was blackness. What if it was coming from above? Craning his neck back, he observed the ‘sky’. Nothing but blackness either. Perhaps he was finally going mad after all these years.</p><p>
  <em>Let me get a look at you… Stand still. Hmmm… You’re not the one. One of them, yes, but not the right one.</em>
</p><p>Someone was speaking to him, getting inside his head. A vision? He hadn’t experienced one of those since the second world tournament. Why would they be starting up again? A warning of things to come?</p><p>“Who are you? Why are you in my head?” Ozuma called out, his mouth dry.</p><p>
  <em>I thought the Champion might be able to hear me… but it appears not. Never mind. But you can. You can help me.</em>
</p><p>“I don’t even know what you are!”</p><p>
  <em>How about now? </em>
</p><p>Ozuma examined his surroundings. Still nothing but blackness. He wasn’t sure what he was even supposed to be looking for. A human? A talking animal? A bitbeast? Or something else entirely? What would the Elders think? Would they see it as a sign of madness?</p><p>A cold wave poured through his body as if a bucket of ice had been poured over his head. It started from his head then made its way down to his feet. He shuddered. That’s when he saw it. A pair of eyes looking down at him. Reptilian in shape with orbs a shade of gold, and large. One eye was the size of a single human. It wasn’t the eyes that caught his attention – it was the teeth. Two rows of dagger-like teeth on the bottom, designed to tear and cut, and two on the top. He was reminded of a shark.</p><p>His eyes widened. “What… What are you?”</p><p>The creature seemed to smile if one could even call it that. <em>For centuries, I have been locked away because they thought of me as dangerous. Who is ‘they’? The four sacred bitbeasts. That should sound familiar to you.</em></p><p>Driger, Dranzer, Draciel and Dragoon. The four most powerful creatures to ever appear in a beyblade match. A couple of years ago he had tried to seal them away, believing them to be evil, but Tyson and his friends proved him wrong. They were able to show they could be trusted with the four sacred bitbeasts. But this creature seemed to think otherwise.</p><p>“What do you want from me? Why do you appear to me in a dream?”</p><p>The creature laughed. Well, at least that’s what Ozuma thought it was. It was a deep thundering sound that reverberated throughout whatever place he was in. <em>You’re one of the rare people that can hear me. Someone that receives visions. </em></p><p>“I haven’t received any visions for a long time.”</p><p>
  <em>That’s because they come from me. You failed me, Ozuma, so I turned my attention towards someone else. A child prodigy… but he too failed in the end. But I can’t find anyone else so I’m relaying messages to you again. Tell them all – the beast will return. The end is nigh. Can you do that for me?</em>
</p><p>Ozuma frowned. The creature was serious about it despite the playful tone in his voice. “Why… Why would I want to do that?” He was a messenger for some dark reptile that appeared to him in dreams? That wasn’t comforting.</p><p>
  <em>Because you’ll die if you don’t. </em>
</p><p>Before Ozuma could make sense of what was just said, the creature opened its mouth and lunged. He couldn’t move his legs. The tendrils held onto him, keeping him in place. Nowhere to run. Nowhere to hide. Only death awaited him. Squeezing his eyes shut, he braced himself for a swift end. The creature’s jaws descended on him. He screamed.</p><p>.</p><p>“The world is still in shock over the unexpected death of Stanley Dickinson,” Rei read aloud, glancing down at the big bold headline on today’s paper. There was a picture of the man smiling in the photo beneath the title as well as a long report over the details of his murder. There was even a few paragraphs about the man’s life outside beyblading. Disgusted, he put the paper down. “They speak of him as if they truly cared.”</p><p>“People are shocked, Rei. It’s not every day you hear of a big name being murdered in your hometown,” Max replied form the seat across the table. They were currently visiting one of the quieter cafes in town. “It’s been a few days and I still can’t get over it. All I can think of is ‘why?’ Why Stanley? What did he ever do that made someone want to end his life?”</p><p>Rei shrugged. “Your guess is as a good as mine – I don’t know.”</p><p>“You think the tournament will even go ahead?”</p><p>Without Stanley at the top, how could the event even begin? Stanley was the brains behind it all. Who else would step up and take the role of chairmen? Would anyone even be willing after what happened to Stanley? “This could be the end of the BBA. Stepping into Stanley’s role would just feel unsafe.” What was once the most coveted job in the world was now the one no one wanted.</p><p>Max grabbed the paper and flipped it over. “I don’t want to hear about it anymore. It’s too depressing to be reminded of his death every hour of the day.” He looked up. “How are things with you, Rei?”</p><p>“Same as always, Max. Adapting to a life after professional blading.” It was hard. Every time he visited the children in the parks, he was reminded of his biggest battles. It made him wish he hadn’t publicly come forth with his retirement but staying made no sense. What else did he have to prove? “How are you coping? Any girlfriends?”</p><p>He shook his head. “No. What about you?”</p><p>“You’re thinking of Mariah, aren’t you?”</p><p>Max nodded. “I always thought you too were close. I remember in the first tournament Mariah waited by your bedside after you were injured during the match against Bryan. It was hard to get her out of the room.”</p><p>He smiled. “Yeah, that sounds like Mariah.” His smile faltered. “You know, everyone back in the village always thought Mariah and I would someday become husband and wife.” He wasn’t quite sure where those thoughts came from since he didn’t harbour any romantic feelings for the girl. Why was it that people misconstrued friendliness as a sign of romance?</p><p>“But you don’t love her, do you?”</p><p>“Mariah’s a nice girl with a golden heart, but I don’t love her, and I never have.” He glanced down where his beyblade was and sighed. Beyblading had always been his number one love. The only girl that had ever come close to capturing his heart was Salima, but she was long gone. The girl probably didn’t even blade anymore. “Have you ever wondered what life would be like if we hadn’t become professional bladers?”</p><p>Max brought a hand to his chin and rubbed it, looking thoughtful. “I’ve never really thought hard about it, but I suppose I’d be helping my dad run the hobby store. I was never particularly good at all the science stuff my mum was interested in. What about you? What do you think you’d be doing now if you weren’t a blader?”</p><p>“A chef,” he answered. “Didn’t have much of a chance to cook in my village, but when I left home, I visited my uncle. He taught me the basics of cooking and thought I’d make a fine chef one day. Of course, that didn’t turn out, but I love to cook when I get the chance. I was actually thinking of starting my own business.” Which had seemed like a good idea up until the mysterious assassination of Mr. Dickinson.</p><p>“But you’re thinking against it now because of recent events.”</p><p>He nodded. “Yeah. It seems too much of a risk to take right now.”</p><p>The waitress arrived a few moments later carrying two iced chocolates. One had a cream on it, and the other without. Max took the one with the cream on it and started scooping it with his spoon. Rei watched him eat, feeling a bit sick to the stomach, watching devour the cream, as if it was the last edible item on the planet. It took Max several seconds to finish off the cream, and he wiped his mouth with the back of his right hand to remove the last traces of it, looking somewhat guilty.</p><p>“That was fast.”</p><p>Max flashed him a toothy grin. “It’s the food of champions.”</p><p>Rei chuckled. “You know I’m glad that we still have a chance to hang out together. I kinda missed that when I was with the White Tigers.”</p><p>“Same here. The All Starz are good friends, but there was just… something missing.” He lifted his glass and brought the rim to his lips, arched his neck back a little and skulled down half of his drink. Either Max had been thirsty, or he really liked iced chocolates. Once done, he pushed it to the centre of the table. “With the Bladebreakers, I feel like I’m at my best. I don’t know what it is but representing the Bladebreakers makes me want to fight harder.”</p><p>“Like giving it a thousand percent instead of one hundred percent, right?”</p><p>Max nodded. “Yeah.”</p><p>Rei reached for his iced chocolate but didn’t even manage to touch the glass when a beyblade hit the table with enough force that Max’s glass fell over the side and onto the floor. Glass shattered everywhere. Several seated customers glanced in their direction. “What the heck?” The anonymous blade sped away from the table, speeding down the street. He then looked down at Max. “Are you all right?”</p><p>Max nodded, stretching out his arms in front of him, checking for any signs of damage. No cuts at least. He rose to his feet, hand dropping to his right pocket where his blade was kept. Several people came forward to investigate. “Stay back,” Max warned, his arms raised. “I’m okay. But stay inside.”</p><p>Rei looked towards the waitress. Her eyes were wide. “Listen, you need to get everyone inside where it’s safe. Call the police and don’t come outside until they arrive, all right? Can you do that?” She nodded. “I know you’re afraid, but you have to be strong.” She nodded again. Satisfied, Rei turned back to Max.</p><p>“Is Draciel ready for some action?”</p><p>“He’s always ready.”</p><p>Rei pulled out his blade, and dug his free hand into his opposite pocket, pulling out his ripcord and launcher. He loaded his blade, took aim at the café’s roof then yanked back on the cord, sending forth his blade into the air. Driger landed on the roof and spun around in a circle waiting for its next command. Draciel landed on the ground. “Let’s go.”</p><p>Breaking into a jog, Rei and Max followed Draciel through the streets. Fortunately, this part of town was quiet and there weren’t too many obstacles in their path. They turned a corner into a deserted alleyway. Empty cans of cheap food and wine bottles littered the ground. There was even graffiti on the walls though Rei couldn’t quite make out what the words were supposed to read. Draciel sped down the alleyway joined by Driger, smashing cans and wine bottles. The blades parted ways at the end, searching the eastern and western paths.</p><p>Rei and Max came to a halt. “I think we’ve lost them,” Max exclaimed, bending over, resting his hands on his knees as he caught his breath.</p><p>“We’re being watched.”</p><p>Max straightened. “You don’t think whoever was behind Stanley’s murder is after us as well?”</p><p>“Unless they just wanted our attention. Maybe they wanted us to see something though I don’t know what it could be.” He searched the alleyway, looking for a clue that would explain why they had been led down here, but all he could see was bottles and cans. No paper notes stuck to the walls nor anything on the ground. A mystery.</p><p>Max looked at the graffiti on the wall. The letters were in blue and white with a black outline, but the font was hard to decipher. Also, Rei found the colours quite distracting, making it harder for him to make out what the letters were trying to say. Max tilted his head to the side, his brows furrowed. “The end is nigh,” he read, as both Driger and Draciel returned.</p><p>“How can you read that?”</p><p>“Rick came from the streets. He told me all about graffiti writing.”</p><p>So, the burly blader had his uses after all. “The end is nigh. What is that supposed to mean?”</p><p>Max pulled his gaze away and looked at Rei, troubled. “I think we should visit Tyson. Kenny might be around, and he could help us understand it better.” He dug a hand into his other pocket and pulled out his took, taking a quick snapshot of the writing. “Let’s go.”</p><p>.</p><p>Life at the PBB HQ was always busy. Even post-tournament, the employers never had a day’s rest. Researchers would work overtime to ensure their tasks were done. Now that they were the biggest company in the world, the expectations and demands were unreasonably high. Researchers were developing new beyblades that would allow blades to endure more damage, so their match-time was increased. With beyblading continuing to grow in popularity globally, fans wanted matches to be longer so they could get their money’s worth. Beyblading wasn’t an amateur sport anymore – it was a money-making industry, and everyone wanted to be a part of it.</p><p>Judy helped herself to a cup of strong coffee as she settled on the chair before her computer. Douglas was still the leader of the company, but the man had put her in charge of leading the projects. At first, she was pleased, but now it had become a nightmare. People were always coming to her with their issues ranging from technical problems and even their personal issues.</p><p>A young female scientist with a deep shade of red hair burst through the door. “Judy! We have a problem in C14! One of the computers has experienced a technical fault!”</p><p>“Tell the IT department to fix it,” Judy replied.</p><p>“But Judy, they-”</p><p>Judy bit her lip. “That’s their problem. I don’t care how long it takes – just tell them to fix it.”</p><p>The young woman nodded and turned around, sprinting towards the IT office. This was what her life had become – a life of chaos and madness, and her stress levels were now at an all-time high. Not an hour went by without some form of interruption. Taking in another sip of her coffee, Judy brought up her email and scanned the list of the unread.</p><p>“Spam. Spam. Spam. Wedding invitation. More spam. Funeral… Urgent?”</p><p>She frowned. The sender was anonymous. How odd. It wasn’t often she received urgent message. Last one she had received had been over three months ago and was about a meeting with some blading associations. Judy clicked on the message.</p><p>
  <em>Dear Ms Tate,</em>
</p><p>
  <em>It is with utmost pleasure that I invite you to a special dinner to be held at Taste the Aroma this weekend.  Please respond as soon as possible so I can finalize the details of your pick-up.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Sincerely, Anonymous</em>
</p><p>Judy closed the message. Her email address was known to the public since she was the face of the company, but this was still unexpected. Someone was inviting her to dinner at the French restaurant, <em>Bardo Brasserie. </em>Someone who wanted to impress her, but why? Why so soon, and why now? So many questions raced through her mind, yet she had no answers.</p><p>She didn’t have time to have a social life with her busy work life. It had gotten to point that it was hard to even reply to a text message from her son and ex-husband without some sort of interruption. Perhaps this was a sign she needed to take some time off, but how would the company cope without her?</p><p>“Ms Tate?”</p><p>The young female scientist had returned. Startled, Judy jumped in her chair. “What’s the problem, Lucinda?”</p><p>“The computer was infected with a virus. Our virus protection expired about a week ago. It can be easily resolved if you renew the contract for another year.”</p><p>She rubbed her temples. Of course. “I shall do that immediately.”</p><p>Lucinda didn’t move. She looked at Judy, her hazel eyes fixed on her face. “When was the last time you had a decent night’s rest?”</p><p>Great. So, she had black bags beneath her eyes now. What a great look for the company. “I’m perfectly fine.”</p><p>“You need a break, Ms Tate.”</p><p>She shook her head. “We have much work that needs to be done.”</p><p>“We can manage. Your health must come first. If you’re unwell, nothing will be achieved.” The girl raised a fine point. She looked at the screen again. Accepting that offer was becoming more tempting with each passing moment. It had been years since she had attended a fine dining restaurant. “Um, Ms Tate?”</p><p>Judy blinked, and glanced up at the girl again. “I might take your advice after all. I have a meeting to attend to this weekend.”</p><p>“Well, when I said take some time off, I actually meant do nothing related to work, Ms Tate.”</p><p>“I’m going to a dinner.”</p><p>“Oh, that’s great! With whom if I may ask?”</p><p>“A former work colleague,” Judy replied. Why cause concern with her workers by saying she didn’t know the person? “It’s been awhile since I’ve caught up with my old friends,” she added, hoping she sounded convincing enough. It must’ve worked because Lucinda smiled and nodded.</p><p>“That’s wonderful news, Ms. Tate.”</p><p>“Do have any other news to report?”</p><p>Before the woman could speak another word, they were interrupted by yelling from downstairs. Without sparing another thought, Judy switched the screen on her computer off. She surged to her feet and sprinted to the floor below, her high heels clacking against the ground.</p><p>There were five floors in the PBB HQ. Top floor was basically her house and the All Stars sleeping quarters, the fourth floor dedicated for research, the third floor was the dining area and kitchens, the fourth floor was training facilities and the bottom floor was for storage only. Each floor was fully furnished and air conditioned.</p><p>She touched the bottom step then-tumbled forward, arms flailing wildly, to keep her balance.</p><p>“Ms Tate!” Lucinda rushed forward and grabbed Judy before a disaster could happen.</p><p>Crisis averted. Judy’s heart pounded as if she had run a marathon. “Goodness!” Then she looked down and noticed her heel was crooked. How had that happened? She bent down and removed her shoe. “…And they told me these heels were of good quality,” she muttered.</p><p>Fortunately, for her sake, no one seemed to notice her embarrassment.</p><p>“I didn’t touch your shitty laptop!” Michael protested.</p><p>Emily stood opposite to him, her brows furrowed in irritation, her fingers curled into fists. Her face was red, and the girl even trembled with rage. “Then why isn’t it turning on?!”</p><p>“Shouldn’t you know the answer to that question? I thought you were the self-proclaimed brains of the team. You work it out,” Michael snapped. “But I definitely didn’t touch your laptop because I wasn’t home all day yesterday, so the culprit you are looking for can’t be me!”</p><p>They were both one step away from turning this into the dramatic fight of the century. Just what Judy needed. World War Three in the heart of the PBB Complex. Why could they not just work together? If only they both put that same amount of passion and energy into blading, they’d be a force to be reckoned with.</p><p>“Well, I’m sorry then,” Emily said, folding her arms.</p><p>Michael scowled. “That’s what you say now, but you’ll point the finger at me next time this happens because that’s what you do. Haven’t you got anything better to do? Oh right, I forgot, you don’t have any friends. No one wants to befriend a bore like you.”</p><p>Things were getting heated. An intervention had to happen before someone said something, they would later regret. “Michael. Emily. Enough,” Judy said, stepping in between the two before another word could be said. “I will talk to both of you in my office now.”</p><p>Michael rolled his eyes, and Emily turned her nose up. Fortunately, both had enough sense to know to remain quiet.</p><p> “I will clean up at the mess at once,” Lucinda said. An excuse to get away quickly.</p><p>“Office. Now,” Judy ordered.</p><p>Michael and Emily glowered at each other but did as they were told and started heading up towards the office. With a sigh, Judy followed them up the stairs, wondering if there’d ever be a day of peace.</p><p>.</p><p>“Ozuma!”</p><p>He was sitting on his bed, his hands gripping the white sheets, his face ashen white. Beads of sweat clung to his forehead, and he was breathing in deeply, almost as if he had been sprinting. Mariam rushed to his side. She placed a hand on his shoulder. He jumped, startled.</p><p>“It’s just me, Mariam. What’s gotten into you?”</p><p>“Just… a dream,” he said slowly. “A dream.”</p><p>She waved a hand in his face, concerned. The last time she had seen him like this was when he was just a young boy of eight years old. That had been the first time he first received a vision about capturing the sacred bitbeasts and sealing them up for eternity. It was that vision alone that motivated him into becoming a blader.</p><p>“You look like you’ve seen a ghost.” Try as she might, sensitivity wasn’t her thing. In moments like these, a better person than herself would check on her friend to see if he was all right. But that wasn’t her style. Being the only female in her tribe taught her to be tough and show no feelings if she wanted to be respected by the men. “Seriously. You’re as white as the sheets you are holding. That must’ve been one heck of a dream.”</p><p>He released the sheets then looked at her. She saw fear and uncertainty in his eyes. “I need to speak with the Elders.” He swung his legs over the side of the bed and picked himself up then started making his way towards the doorway.</p><p>Mariam wasn’t having any of that. No way did Ozuma walk out of this room without explaining what was on his mind first. She stepped in front of his path, folded her arms across her chest, and glared. “What’s going on? Why do you need to speak with the Elders?”</p><p>He drew in a deep breath then sighed. “I can’t tell you, Mariam.”</p><p>“And why not? We’re teammates, Ozuma. We made a promise we’d tell each other everything.”</p><p>“You wouldn’t believe me if I told you.”</p><p>She raised an eyebrow. “You’re going to play that card on me? We’ve been through everything together, Ozuma.” She stabbed him in the chest. “We followed you blindly in your quest to seal the sacred bitbeasts. We believed in you despite you giving us no reason to. We’re not just teammates, Ozuma. We’re more than just friends. We are of the same tribe and that makes us family. Families don’t keep secrets. So, you tell me what’s bothering you right now, or I will get Dunga in here to sing until you can’t take it anymore,” she threatened.</p><p>The scary thing about that is Dunga would sing and recite bad poetry until the desired goal was achieved. Dunga might’ve looked big and tough, but deep down he was just a big softie.</p><p>Ozuma raised both his eyebrows. At least the colour in his face was returning now. “You’re not serious?”</p><p>She nodded. “You know as well as I do Dunga will do everything I say.” She had power over him, and the man was eager to please. Her brother often teased him about having a crush on Mariam, and that’s why he was so willing to carry out her demands, but Mariam wasn’t so sure. But then again, she wasn’t the brightest when it came to matters of the heart. Such things were unimportant in her quest to become a strong blader.</p><p>Ozuma sighed. “It’s happening again. Visions of a future.”</p><p>“What did you see?”</p><p>“This beast… some overgrown reptile. Said the end was nigh. Mentioned the four sacred bitbeasts.”</p><p>One of those visions. Visions the Elders didn’t agree with but did nothing to discourage him. It was because of these visions they had become bladers in the first place. It was so they could be strong enough to seal the bitbeasts up. “They’re not evil, Ozuma. We’ve been down that road again, and I don’t really want to repeat that.”</p><p>“This creature thinks they’re bad… He said he was locked up.”</p><p>“And you believe that? </p><p>Ozuma frowned. “I don’t know what to believe. That’s why I want to speak with the Elders. Maybe they might know something about this… dream of mine.” Mariam tilted her head, studying his features closely. He was still somewhat pale, but the colour was returning to his face. Ozuma wasn’t disturbed by much, but this recent dream of his had shaken him. “I’ve never seen a creature like that before. It has to be a bitbeast. I don’t see what else it could be.”</p><p>“And it’s talking to you specifically?”</p><p>He nodded. “He said I was one of the rare few people who could hear his thoughts.”</p><p>“People who receive visions of the future then. That makes you and…”</p><p>“Brooklyn.”</p><p>Right. She knew the name. An attractive boy with psychopathic tendencies. Why was it always the good-looking ones that were batshit insane? “Yeah, I remember him. He almost destroyed the world last year.”</p><p>“I need to find him. Maybe… maybe he knows more about this. Maybe he’s been seeing the same thing himself, but we need to speak with the Elders first. We can’t leave without their permission.”</p><p>They could, but Ozuma didn’t like breaking the rules. The Elders lived in a remote village somewhere near the base of the Alps. According to Ozuma, leaving without permission would anger them and it would result in losing their place among the Saint Shields tribe. Mariam personally didn’t care. They were living in modern times now. Besides, she wasn’t a young girl anymore. The Elders had no power over her, but she didn’t dare go against Ozuma’s wishes.</p><p>“All right. We’ll look for the Elders. We’re going to have to stop by the city first. Joseph and Dunga are buying doughnuts. He told me they’d be waiting near Oliver’s café,” she said. In other words, Majestics territory. The rich team of uptight bladers who were wealthy enough have their own bey-stadium. “You think we’ll get a chance to see the infamous Majestics roaming around the streets?”</p><p>“Why? Did you want their autograph?”</p><p>She snorted, rolling her eyes. “No, I just want to see if they are as good as the fans claim them to be.” She turned around and headed out into the hallway. “Come on slowpoke. Let’s get moving. Leaving Dunga and my brother alone in the city for a few hours could be disastrous.” Knowing Dunga, he’d probably create scene in public.</p><p>“Lead the way, Mariam.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. Unanswered Questions</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Drop out of the tournament and forget about defending his world title. If it had come from Kenny, he might’ve understood, but Kai had suggested it. Kai had wanted him to pull out of the tournament. The very idea was foolish! Hide in the shadows and wait it out? That wasn’t the way the Bladebreakers did things. Never turn your back on an enemy. Don’t show any signs of weakness. Surely, it had to be some cruel joke?</p><p>Kai believed they were in danger. He believed someone had intentionally wanted Stanley out of the way, but for what purpose? What did Mr. Dickinson know? Is that why he had been killed? Because he knew too much? So many questions and the only answer he received was silence. </p><p>And what did it mean for the tournament? Would it even still go ahead without Mr. Dickinson’s support? Who would take over the reins? Quitting would be easy, but Tyson never took the easy way out. Quitting would only prove he was scared. Sighing, he dug a hand into his pocket and pulled out his blade, examining the bitchip. “What do you think I should do, Dragoon?” Tyson said.</p><p>No immediate response. He sighed again. Not that it really mattered much. Dragoon would tell him it was something that he had to decide himself, and not be influenced by anyone else. Sighing again, he put his blade away and looked up. A pink and orange hue stretched across the normally blue sky. Night would soon be upon them, and that’s when the nerves would surface.</p><p>Did these mysterious assailants have a base someplace within the city? Were they locals or foreigners? Why would they attack now of all times? Why not in an earlier tournament? What was so special about this year? What exactly had Mr. Dickinson done to the world to deserve such a death? So many questions, but each one had no answer.</p><p>He was standing in the exact same place Stanley had died. The stage was still there waiting to be examined by the experts. “I don’t know what to do,” he said, speaking to the ground, as if the man was buried there. “You made me who I am today. Without your support, I’d still be that amateur blader hoping to make it big. I wouldn’t have been able to travel the world and meet so many great people without you.”</p><p>Every blader he had crossed paths with had made him a little bit stronger. Every battle taught him something new about himself. Each battle helped him hone the natural skills he had to the next level. It was hard to think of an alternative life. Where would he be now if not for the BBA? He continued to talk to the man as if he were still alive.</p><p>“I just need an answer. My heart tells me to stay with the BBA, but my head says otherwise. I don’t know who targeted you and why, but my friend, Kai, thinks it was a planned attack. What did you do, Mr. Dickinson? If you were in danger, then why didn’t you seek help?” His shoulders sagged.</p><p>His words were obviously falling on deaf ears, but it brought him some brief respite. Just having the chance to voice his fears out aloud lessened the worries gripping his stomach. He was torn. Torn for his loyalty towards the BBA. Torn towards his loyalty towards his friends, the people who had been at his side since the beginnings of the BBA. Refusing Kai’s suggestion could bring harm to his friends. One life had already been lost. He didn’t want to see more friends join the dead.</p><p>“People are scared. There’s no one willing to step up and lead the BBA. They’re terrified as to what will happen again next. Maybe they’re right to be afraid. How do we fight against something we can’t even see?” He sighed again, digging a hand into his pocket, reaching for his Dragoon. He found comfort in touching it. “I don’t want to be the one to make this decision. It’s too big. No matter what course of action I take, someone will hurt, and I will take the blame.”</p><p>He kneeled down and lowered his head, biting hard on his lower lip to hold the tears at bay. Every time he closed his eyes, he visualized Stanley’s death. Despite not being present at the time, it didn’t take much imagination to picture a gun being fired and the bullet in Stanley’s head. The blood on the bullet. The pool around Stanley’s body when he collapsed on the ground.</p><p>“Why is it that no matter how hard we try, something goes wrong? We try to do what’s good for the world, but there’s always someone out there that has to spoil it for the rest of us. What’s the point in even trying if we’re all going to die in the end?”</p><p>It was like a vicious cycle, and he was trapped within it, unable to ever break free to taste peace and freedom. Perhaps he was cursed the moment he signed up for the BBA. It can’t have been a coincidence that all the bad started happening when his name became known across the world. Some labelled him as a hero, but he was starting to think he was public enemy number one.</p><p>Curling his fingers into a fist, Tyson slammed the ground, tears streaming down his cheeks. He was trembling from a mixture of fear, anger and grief. Fear of the unknown. Anger at the ones who were behind Stanley’s death. Grief for the man who gave him a chance no one else would. He allowed himself to shed a few more tears, the overwhelming emotions becoming too much.</p><p>“I just want an answer. What is the right path to take? Follow my heart and risk losing the ones I love or betray what made me and save those that I care about but have my reputation tainted beyond repair?” Hand still in pocket, Tyson released a surprised gasp when he felt a warmth come from the blade. Dragoon was listening.</p><p>
  <em>Tyson.</em>
</p><p>“Dragoon?”</p><p>
  <em>Your heart is heavy with burden. </em>
</p><p>“I’m conflicted, Dragoon. I don’t know… what to do…”</p><p>
  <em>You do know. You’ve been doing it all your life. Standing up for what’s right even if it’s an unpopular decision.</em>
</p><p>Refusing Bega’s offer was the first one that came to mind. Refusing to give up on Kai during the Demolition Boy’s reign of terror was another. Most people would’ve taken the popular decision, but not Tyson. “This is different, Dragoon. I wouldn’t be anything without the BBA.”</p><p>
  <em>Turning your back on them now doesn’t mean you’ve closed the doors forever.</em>
</p><p>“What do you think I should do?”</p><p>
  <em>I can’t make that decision for you, Tyson, but I will always support you, no matter what path you choose to take.</em>
</p><p>Drawing in a deep breath, Tyson wiped the tears away. Stanley would not want him kneeling. Kai would be most displeased and probably be embarrassed that he lost to him if he saw him like this. Rei and Max would be a little more understanding but they too would expect him to be strong. He was the blader all bladers wanted to be. The one to make the tough decisions when needed.</p><p>He glanced down at the murder spot again then rose to his feet. “I’m not doing this because I want to… but because I have to. I know you’d understand, but I can’t… won’t let other people suffer. I promise I will find those who harmed you, and I will put an end to them. It won’t bring you back, but at least justice will be served.”</p><p>.</p><p>Mystel sat down on the chair, staring at the ceiling, lost in his own thoughts. He was at the bowling alley with his teammates again, but he was barely paying attention to his surroundings. All he could think about was Mariah and why she hadn’t texted back. Normally, she’d sent him a few texts a day for random conversation, but today? There was nothing. Had something gone wrong on the flight to Japan?</p><p>“Hey Mystel – Mystel? – hello? Earth to blondie, are you there?”</p><p>Mystel broke out of his thoughts and looked up. Ming Ming was looking down at him, waving a hand in his face, her features concerned. “Don’t call me blondie.”</p><p>“So you are with us after all. I was going to tell Brooklyn to throw some water at your face to wake you up from whatever you were daydreaming about.” She brought a hand forward. In her hand was a large plastic clear cup with a yellow straw. “Garland brought some of his homemade smoothie stuff along.”</p><p>Ah, so that’s why there was an esky there. He was wondering what reason there was for having an esky inside the bowling alley. The place did sell drinks. He accepted the drink from Ming Ming and took a sip. Mango flavour. Ming Ming knew him well. She sat down beside him. “What’s going on, Mystel? It’s not normally like you to not pay attention.”</p><p>“Pondering the meaning of life,” he replied, no sarcasm intended. “Look at us. Look at what we’ve become. There was a time people wanted to be like us, and now the entire world would be happy to watch us burn.” He then snorted. “I don’t know what’s worse – the lives we lived before or the lives we live now.”</p><p>Ming Ming furrowed her brows, hands resting on her lap. “It’s like we no longer exist anymore. My sales have plummeted. Only the diehard fans purchase my recordings now.”</p><p>“And I’m back to being unknown.”</p><p>“I thought you preferred it that way?”</p><p>He forced a dry laugh. “I used to think being unknown was a good thing, but once you’ve had a taste of fame…”</p><p>“It’s nice to be appreciated, isn’t it?” she said, finishing his sentence. “To have people look up to you and want to be like you. I remember people used to come to my signings with merchandise. It made them all so happy to have my signature on it. It was a nice feeling. And now? It’s all gone. No one cares anymore.”</p><p>“All because Boris was revealed to be a crook, and Brooklyn had to go and lose his mind, tearing apart the stadium in the process.” One big childish tantrum, but in his defines, Brooklyn had never known what it was like to have lost at something. It was such a foreign experience to him that it made him lash out in anger.</p><p>“You can’t hate him for it, Mystel. What happened was out of anyone’s control.”</p><p>“I just wonder… do you think we should’ve tried harder at reaching out to him beforehand?” Not that anyone should be taking any advice from himself, but perhaps a crisis could have been averted if they had acted like a true team. “The Bladebreakers… the White Tigers… What they have with each other isn’t something that we have.”</p><p>“Complete trust in each other, and full support no matter the result.”</p><p>He nodded. Many people often assumed Ming Ming was just some empty-headed pop star, but she was a lot smarter than what people gave her credit for. “On the plus side, at least no one wants to start a fight with us.” Because they knew they wouldn’t be able to compete on the same level. The only team that he considered worthy opponents was the Bladebreakers, but they rumours stated they had disbanded. Only Tyson remained to compete.</p><p>There was silence then Ming Ming stood up. “It’s my turn to bowl next. I’m so close to overtaking Garland. Wish me luck. I’d love to see the disappointment on his face when I win.”</p><p>“All the best Ming Ming. I know you can do it.”</p><p>She smiled, then walked away to replace Garland. He wasn’t alone for very long when Brooklyn took Ming Ming’s spot. “You’ve got that expression on your face that reads, ‘she didn’t text me. Whatever shall I do with my life?”</p><p>“I don’t have time for your jokes, Brooklyn.” To think this was the same guy who almost single-handedly destroyed the world last year. “Why don’t you just go back to the game or something?”</p><p>Brooklyn pouted. “You’re breaking my heart, Mystel. I wanted to check up on you. You’re oddly quiet today and that’s worrisome.” Was that actual concern in his tone? It was hard to tell with Brooklyn whether he was being serious or not. Even if he was, he seemed to have a natural talent in making every sentence sound sarcastic. What a skilled person he was. “Wait – let me guess. It’s that girl with the pink hair, right?”</p><p>“Her name is Mariah.”</p><p>“Rei’s former flame, yeah?”</p><p>“Rei and Mariah were never an item.”</p><p>“Oh, I must’ve misread the signals then. Can’t blame me, really. Hard to keep track of all the drama going on around us.”</p><p>“What exactly is your point, Brooklyn, if you even have one?”</p><p>“You might have trouble believing me, but I speak as a concerned teammate and friend. Mariah isn’t worth your time. She’s only going to make life difficult for you, and it can’t get any worse than the shit storm we’re already in.” He pointed to the bowling lanes. “Look at us. We’re bowling for Zeus’s sake! We should be out there practicing, but we don’t have the financial support to compete in the tournament. This is what we do now to pass the time.”</p><p>“And?”</p><p>He threw his hands up in the air and gave a frustrated sigh. “She’s not worth the extra baggage, Mystel. Ditch her before you become too invested in her. She comes from a traditional tribe, yes? Do you really think her people have you in their sights, especially after what happened last year?”</p><p>Surely, Mariah would fight against the teachings of her tribe? She fought for what mattered to her. She wouldn’t end her friendship with him for the sake of keeping her people happy. Would she? He frowned. “You don’t know that for certain.”</p><p>“You underestimate me, Mystel. I’m more observant than you think. I’ve heard people say losing is tough, but nothing is more painful than a broken heart. We’re only managing to hang on here. If you fall off the radar then what becomes of the rest of us?”</p><p>“You are full of wisdom today,” he said curtly, not at all pleased with the current direction this conversation was taking. Brooklyn was no fool. He said what was on his mind even if his words were blunt and direct, and often he was more right than wrong. But Mariah… She wouldn’t abandon him for the sake of her tribe. She was old enough now to look out for herself, surely?</p><p>Brooklyn shrugged, not at all phased by Mystel’s sarcastic remark. “You hate me now, but you’ll thank me in due time.” He stood up. “You might not want to skip your turn again or you’ll get the loser award for the month, and you know what the entails – being stuck with the chores.” He walked over to join the rest of the group.</p><p>At this point, he didn’t care about being the loser of the month. Losing Mariah permanently would be so much worse. But what if Brooklyn was correct? What if the smart-mouthed ginger blader was right about this? What if Mariah remained loyal to her tribe instead? The only part he missed about the life before Bega was the stress free lifestyle. Now he had this to worry about.</p><p>“Mystel – it’s your turn,” Garland called out.</p><p>Placing his smoothie on the bench, Mystel rose to his feet and walked over to the lane. At least it would provide a temporary distraction from the thoughts Brooklyn had just implanted in his mind.</p><p>.</p><p>Nothing could be worse than being stuck in an office with Emily. Even being stuck in a room with the Blitzkrieg Boys would be heaven compared to this nightmare. At least they liked the silence. He folded his arms, and leaned back in the leather chair, refusing to make eye contact with the girl. Maybe if he pretended that she wasn’t there, she’d cease to exist.</p><p>Judy sat behind the table. He noticed the black bags beneath her eyes, and he didn’t fail to notice how many times she rubbed her temples. When was the last time she had a proper sleep? He almost felt sorry for her.</p><p>“Now… what was the cause of this nonsense?”</p><p>“My laptop was working fine yesterday. I tried to turn it on after lunch today, but it wouldn’t power up,” Emily explained, then looked sideways at him. “I left it in the living room. Michael, Eddy and Steve were playing some stupid game. Michael probably carried out some dare and played around with my laptop without my consent.”</p><p>Michael glowered. “For the last time, I didn’t touch your laptop! I have better things to do than play with your belongings.”</p><p>“Such as what?” she said curtly. “Play video games?”</p><p>“You say it like it’s a bad thing.”</p><p>She gave an exasperated sigh. “There’s a tournament coming up. I don’t see how playing video games makes you a better blader.”</p><p>“How would you know? You’ve never even tried.”</p><p>“I wouldn’t waste my time. I’d rather be doing something productive.”</p><p>Michael rolled his eyes again and threw his hands up in the air. “See what I have to put up? She’s unbelievable!” he exclaimed. “She doesn’t even care about blading, so I don’t see why she’s still on the team!” Perhaps that was taking things a little too far, but he didn’t care. Emily thought herself superior to everyone else, and acted like she was in charge of the team.</p><p>“I’m on the team because I’m responsible for recording all the data. If it wasn’t for me, we wouldn’t be able to track our progress,” she fired back. “I don’t see how <em>you </em>are contributing to the team, Michael. I may not be the strongest blader, but I’m doing something for us at least!”</p><p>Judy raised her hands before either party could get in another word. “This is ridiculous,” she said. “We are a professional team, and I expect you to behave like you’re part of one. This bickering has to stop or both of you will be forced to forfeit your positions on the team.”</p><p>Emily’s mouth dropped open. “You can’t do that, Judy!”</p><p>Even Michael was surprised. That was a serious threat. “You can’t be serious. We’re the best that you’ve got.”</p><p>Judy’s expression hardened. “We’ve been training bladers for years now. You are not irreplaceable. If you value the team as highly as you claim to then you will learn to cooperate. Is that understood?”</p><p>When she put it like that, Michael could not see how he could argue with logic. She had brought in Rick after all, and although he hated to admit it, Rick was a talented blader. He was a little rough around the edges, but thanks to Max’s efforts, the man mountain had softened up. He could now last a day without wanting to punch Rick in the face. That was a major improvement.</p><p>“Understood,” Emily said.</p><p>“Yeah, I get it,” he said. Great. Now he <em>had </em>to cooperate with Emily or get booted off the team. How was he supposed to remain civil with her when he felt a surge of annoyance every time she opened her mouth? “What else is new, Judy?” Aside from the death of Stanley Dickinson of course, but he wasn’t too concerned. He didn’t know the man on a personal level to care.</p><p>“I’ve got a meeting to attend at a restaurant this weekend.”</p><p>Emily arched a brow. “That’s an odd day for a meeting. I thought you would be meeting your son and former partner for a dinner?”</p><p>Judy shook her head. “No… This is important.”</p><p>More important than reuniting with her family she didn’t see very often. No wonder people often found Judy to have a cold exterior. “I’m leaving you in charge, Emily. You’ll have to direct the staff. We’re on stage four of the new beyblade technology, and I think another week or two, it will be ready for testing.”</p><p>Emily nodded, pleased. Just exactly the news he wanted to hear. Emily in charge. It would make her already big head even bigger.</p><p>“What do you want the rest of us to do then, Judy? Kiss the ground Emily walks on?”</p><p>Emily glowered. She opened her mouth to protest, but Judy silenced her with a glare. “Michael, remember, cooperation. I am not joking about this. I want you and the boys to train some of the upcoming bladers. It’ll keep your skills in shape. You boys lost a year because of the rulings last year… Here’s your chance to make up for lost time.”</p><p>Being replaced by Rick and Max hadn’t exactly been his idea of a good time. They went from being the American powerhouses to cheerleaders. Any chance to take back some dignity would be good. Perhaps they could even reclaim some of that respect their team had lost during the Rick era. “Who are we battling against then?”</p><p>“Do you remember Tony and Andy, the newest recruits?”</p><p>“The artist and the DJ wannabe?” Michael replied.</p><p>Judy nodded. “They’ve reached level three now. They’re much stronger than they were. I’d like you to train against them.”</p><p>How insulting. Pitting them against trainees. Judy must’ve thought they were getting rusty if she thought the trainees were on equal level. He snorted. “Fine. I’ll get Steve and Eddy. Will Rick be joining in the fun?”</p><p>“No.”</p><p>Of course. After Max, Rick was the favourite. Maybe this is what Judy wanted. A bit of competition between the members. She probably thought it was healthy. The woman was so clueless at times, but how was he supposed to argue with the boss? “Fine.”</p><p>“They’re probably down at the merry-go-round,” Emily interjected.</p><p>“Thanks for the help, Emily. I doubt I would’ve found them on my own,” he replied sarcastically.</p><p>She just smirked. “My pleasure.”</p><p>“Meeting dismissed.”</p><p>Both Michael and Emily stood up from their chairs. Together, they left the room, but refused to say even one word. No reason to speak with Emily, and she had no reason to speak with him. They exited the room then parted ways. Emily was heading in the direction of the computer labs, whilst Michael made his way outside.</p><p>.</p><p>“I never thought I’d see the great champion on his knees,” a voice drawled from behind.</p><p>Tyson glanced over his shoulder. A male teenager was standing a few feet away, dressed in a simple tee shirt and grey shorts. He didn’t look familiar. “I’m sorry, but you are?”</p><p>“I suppose you’ve spent too much time at the top that you don’t even remember the people beneath you, isn’t that right, Tyson?” The boy sighed. “I can’t say I’m surprised you’ve forgotten – you and your team forgot about me quickly. The name is Alexander. I was the blader you battled against before the Russian tournament. You made a fool of me, and I was cast aside like I was trash.”</p><p>Oh, now he remembered. It was the day they had arrived in Russia. The same day they first crossed paths with Boris and his Biovolt facility. “We didn’t even know where you had been dragged off.”</p><p>“You didn’t even try!” the boy snapped, pointing a finger at him. “I was brought to the dungeon and punished for my failure! For hours I suffered through agonizing pain all because I had lost! You didn’t care! Kai didn’t care! You never even once tried to find what happened to me! You were all so caught up in your own world that you didn’t spare me a thought!”</p><p>Tyson narrowed his eyes. “Did you come all this way to speak your mind?”</p><p>Alexander drew in a deep breath then exhaled. In a more controlled tone, he said, “When Kai went missing, you searched for him. Why couldn’t you have done the same for me?”</p><p>“We had only just arrived, and we knew nothing of Biovolt. How were we supposed to know you had suffered?” Was Alexander connected to Stanley’s murder in some weird twisted way? Or was he just some angry blader looking for a chance to even the score? “I’m sorry that we didn’t do anything. If we could do our time again, we’d search for you as well.”</p><p>“You can’t undo the past, Tyson. What’s done is set in stone, and you just have to live with that decision. I wasn’t the only blader who suffered. When Biovolt was brought down, we were all punished. We had no homes to return to, and so we lived on the streets, freezing. Some of us perished. Those who survived can’t function on a normal level anymore because they’re traumatized by those events. We have you and your team to thank, Tyson. The BBA brought upon our ruin.”</p><p>His irritation flared. “That’s a lie, and you know it. By defeating Boris’s team, we saved the world. Voltaire would’ve had his weapons for war, and we’d all be suffering then. What we did was for the greater good. And again, I’m sorry for the suffering you endured.”</p><p>Alexander’s expression hardened. “It’s always the same with you people. We all started at the same level, but you just happened to be in the right place at the right time. The BBA picked you up, pulled together a team, and sponsored you to travel from continent to continent. You’re not that special, Tyson. If it wasn’t for the BBA, you’d be just like me.”</p><p>Tyson gritted his teeth. After many years of silence, now Alexander comes out into the blue just to make a few complaints about how ill-treated he was? “We fought hard to get to where we are now. We saved the world, not once, but three times. That’s why we’re considered special because we did what no else could do.”</p><p>“And in your rise to the top, you screwed a bunch of people over. But why would someone with an inflated ego care about the little people, yeah? How many people have hurt along the way? How many hopes and dreams have you crushed with your blade?” Alexander pointed at himself. “People like me! You claim to be a hero, but you’re not!”</p><p>The boy really held a grudge. Just how much damage had been done against him to make him so sour anyway? There had to be a deeper meaning behind his words. Maybe the boy had lost someone special along the way, and he blamed it on the Bladebreakers.</p><p>Tyson raised his hands. “I’m not looking for any trouble. There’s enough of that going on already.”</p><p>Alexander drew in a deep breath again, as if calming his nerves to control himself. “And there’s going to be a lot more of that coming your way, Tyson. It’s what you and your friends deserve. To have the world pitted against you. You think Bega was bad? This is so much worse.”</p><p>He frowned. “Wait – you know who was behind the attack?”</p><p>Alexander snickered. “Haven’t you listened to a single word I’ve said? You ruined so many lives. Don’t you think people are going to want a little bit of revenge against the BBA? All it took was for someone to make a stand, pull the trigger and end the life of a man who made the Bladebreakers superstars.”</p><p>Tyson fell silent. So they did have enemies, people specifically targeting the BBA. People most likely envious of the Bladebreakers rise to the top, and couldn’t bear the thought of them winning again. They went to such extreme lengths. What would be their next move? But who was ‘their’? Was it just one person? Multiple people? Did they even have a leader? Or were they facing off against rebellious individuals?</p><p>“You’re not as invincible as you think. The era of the Bladebreakers has come to an end.”</p><p>“You’re wrong. We’ll keep fighting as long as long as the world of beyblading is threatened.”</p><p>Alexander smirked, all anger faded from his eyes. “Just how long can you keep that up for, Tyson?”</p><p>“For as long as necessary. I’m not going to stand by and watch innocent people suffer.”</p><p>“Your words sound so noble, but I’ve heard this all before and witnessed the lies. Your words are wasted on me.”</p><p>Tyson held back a growl. <em>Stay in control, </em>he told himself. “So why did you come?”</p><p>“Because I wanted to speak with you in person.”</p><p>“To warn me?”</p><p>He shrugged. “I suppose you could think that if it makes you feel better…  My father… as cruel as he was… Gave his opponents a fighting chance. He respected his rivals, and it’s for that reason, I’ve approached you.”</p><p>What a messed up family this boy came from. He wondered how the others would react if they were right now. Would they heed his warning? Or just shrug it off? “Thanks… I guess.”</p><p>“I’m sure I’ll be seeing you again, Tyson.” He turned his back and walked away, chuckling to himself.</p><p>Tyson stared at Alexander’s retreating form, struggling to make sense of what had just happened. How long had he been lurking in the shadows, and did he know anything behind Mr. Dickinson’s death? “I should’ve asked him more questions. Dammit Tyson,” he scolded himself.</p><p>Was Alexander playing mind games with him, trying to lower his guard, to make him more vulnerable? Was there any truth to his words? The unanswered questions made his head hurt. Perhaps Kenny might make better sense of this. Before leaving, he spared one more glance at Stanley’s murder spot.</p><p>“Whatever it takes… There will be justice.”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Comments and kudos much appreciated ^_^</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. Darkened Days to Come</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>For once, the dreary dark city of Edinburgh had woken up to sunshine, and locals from all round the city came outside to bathe in the warm sunlight. Johnny wasn’t one of those people. Even on beautiful rare occasions like this, he preferred to avoid the crowds and hang out at his mansion instead.</p><p>Days had passed since the argument with the team. His anger had subsided, but he loathed himself for his part in it. How could he have been so foolish? He wouldn’t be able to compete in the upcoming tournament without a team, and there was no way he was joining up with a bunch of amateurs.</p><p>He turned a corner into a deserted alleyway, spotting a beyblade dish up ahead. The kids who grew up in unstable environments often came down here to blade with other lost souls. It was their temporary escape from the problems in their lives. Johnny walked up to the beydish and glanced down at it. Would he ever get a chance to blade again in a professional environment?</p><p>The answer was simple. All he had to do was apologize to Enrique and Robert would allow him to join the team again, but for now he was alone. Team rosters had to be completed by the end of the week – if your name wasn’t on it, you weren’t allowed to compete. “Fuck,” he swore, kicking his shoe at a scrunched up can nearby. The can flew and landed several feet away then rolled around the corner, disappearing into the shadows. Why was it so hard to utter an apology?</p><p>“Careful where you kick that. You never know who could be standing around a corner,” a female said.</p><p>Johnny glanced up. Across from him was a woman with long royal blue hair wrapped up in a ponytail. She dressed in simple clothing unlike most of the women Enrique liked to hang around with who liked to wear fanciful dresses. “And who the hell are you?”</p><p>The girl snorted, and stepped out from the shadows, her arms folded over her chest. “And they said you were supposed to be a descendant of royalty…” she drawled.</p><p>So this girl knew him. No surprises there. Who didn’t know the infamous Johnny McGregor? “Look, I don’t do autographs, all right? So why don’t you just crawl back to whatever hole you came out of and leave me alone.”</p><p>She moved in closer. “You think I want an autograph from you?” A dry laugh escaped her throat. “You people are so full of yourselves, aren’t you? You probably haven’t heard of me, but I’ve heard of you and your team. The Majestics.” She took another step, moving closer to the beydish. “My teammates are out shopping, so I have some time to kill. Why don’t you and I have a beybattle? You look like you could use the distraction.”</p><p>“Why do you care?” And just who the hell was she anyway to be speaking to him like this?</p><p>“I’m a blader too, and they say you’re one of the best Europe has to offer. But… I have my doubts about that. I heard how your team failed to even qualify for last year’s tournament. I think you’re all talk.” She dropped a hand into a pocket and pulled out her blade. He noticed a bitchip on her blade. So, she had a bitbeast too. “What do you say we battle then or are you too chicken to fight a girl?”</p><p>A muscle in his jaw twitched. This girl had some real nerve talking to him like he was just some common blader. “You say you’ve heard of my team… then you’d know how foolish it would be to challenge me. Why don’t you take the smart option and just walk away before I totally thrash your blade?” he spat. He didn’t feel like blading right now, especially against some unproven girl. So what if she had a bitbeast?</p><p>“So you are a coward, I thought as much.”</p><p>“Just what do you want?”</p><p>“Like I said, I have a bit of time to spare.”</p><p>She was testing him. It was the first time a girl had actually even bothered to show him attention. Most girls just flocked around Enrique and Oliver. For some reason, they both were quite popular, and Johnny couldn’t understand why. Both were weak bladers. Enrique couldn’t even control his bitbeast right and Oliver had unicorn for a bitbeast. A bloody unicorn!</p><p>“Are you deaf or just plain dumb? I’m not blading against you. Why don’t you find some poor kid and test your skill against them instead?” He turned his back, hoping the girl would get the idea. No movement. Perhaps if he started walking away, she’d leave and pester somebody else. He took a step towards the exit.</p><p>“That’s a shame. I guess the rumours are untrue after all. So much for the McGregor clan never turning their back on a fight.”</p><p>He stopped, feeling a surge of anger rise within. No one mocked his family name, especially some female with a smart mouth. Turning around, he strode back to the dish, and glared. “You have no right to speak of my family name. Just who are you anyway?”</p><p>“The name is Mariam. You might want to write that down so you remember the face of the person who beat you in a fair fight.”</p><p>Fight the girl or walk away. It would be far easier to leave now and never look back, but that would just prove to this girl he was some coward. If she was smart, she’d tell the media about him being a coward. That would get back to his family and they would not be so impressed hearing their name shamed like that.</p><p>“Fine, I’ll fight you, but don’t cry when you lose,” Johnny snarled, his patience wearing thin.</p><p>“Funny that, I was just about to say the same thing to you,” Mariam replied curtly, loading her blade on the launcher. Johnny did the same. He was feeling slightly tense – it had been many long months since he had actually spun his blade against someone outside the Majestics. But surely, he could win this match? He was still the reigning champion of the United Kingdom.</p><p>“Three…two…one… Let it rip!” Mariam cried out, releasing her blade into the beydish. Johnny released his cord a split second later. Her blade circled around his blade as if it was searching for a weak spot. Salamalyon remained in the centre of the dish, spinning in place, waiting to counter attack. Mariam raised a hand in the air then brought it crashing down. “Shark Rash, attack now!”</p><p>Shark Rash changed direction, and hurtled down the slope towards Salamalyon. “Force her back, Salamalyon! Use Fire Rod!” His blade’s bitchip glowed. White light burst from the top, temporarily blinding all those present. When the light faded, his bitbeast towered above them both.</p><p>“A salamander, then. He’s very cute.”</p><p>Wait. Cute? Did Mariam call his mighty bitbeast <em>cute? </em>No way. “Attack now!” Salamalyon opened his mouth and spewed forth abhorrent looking purple flames. The flames surrounded her blade, preventing it from escaping. “Finish her off!”</p><p>“Not so fast Johnny-boy.” He growled at the use of that name. “Shark Rash, counterattack, using Abyss Fire!” Her bitchip began to glow. A few moments later, a pillar of light burst skywards from the middle. The light faded now replaced by a shark. Salamalyon was three times the size of the shark, but her bitbeast showed no signs of being intimidated. In fact, she was smiling. Unsettling. “Shark Rash, attack now! Show this chump the true power of the Saint Shields clan!”</p><p>Saint Shields clan. Where had he heard that name before? He was sure the name was mentioned during his private history lessons. Robert would probably know. That man knew everything about history, but he didn’t want to see him right now. Robert probably wouldn’t want to even speak with him until he was ready to apologize. Best to keep his distance for a few days until it all died down.</p><p>Distracted by his thoughts, he was caught off guard by Shark Rash’s charge. The shark rammed into the right of his bitbeast with such force, his great salamander actually stumbled! That was unacceptable. Was he losing his touch? Had he become rusty over the past few years? He tightened his jaw. No. He had the power to win this match. He just had to concentrate.</p><p>“Salamalyon, use Vice Grip!” Salamalyon swung his tail around, slamming the side into the shark’s left ribcage. The shark tried to escape, but Salamalyon wrapped his tail around the body and lifted it up in the air, applying more pressure. The battle would be over soon. “Why don’t you just surrender now, Mariam, and call it a day?”</p><p>She shook her head. “You might have all the money in the world, but money doesn’t buy heart. I’m not going to deny that your bitbeast is more powerful than mine, but I have something you lack. Heart.” What sort of crap was she spewing? Heart? Yeah right. Blading was about wits and bravery and she had neither. This was why he didn’t fight girls. Too emotional. “Max taught me that. You have raw power, but that’s all. I have something greater, and that’s why I’m going to win this battle.”</p><p>She knew Max? As in, the hyper blond kid from the Bladebreakers? It had to be. The Bladebreakers were big believers of that nonsense. Friendship. Love. Trust. Bah. Such things only made you weak. “Go for the kill, Salamalyon. Don’t release your hold. She can’t last much longer.”</p><p>“Look again, tough-guy. You’re wrong.”</p><p>He looked down, narrowing his eyes. Shark Rash didn’t appear to be struggling at all. In fact… the shark was… calm? He was confused. Why wasn’t her shark weakening? “That isn’t right. You should’ve lost the battle by now.”</p><p>“Money doesn’t buy brains either…” she jeered. “Ever touched a shark before? It’s not smooth. It’s like sand paper. Rough. I’m actually doing more harm to your bitbeast than you are to mine.” She gestured down to her bitbeast. Salamalyon’s grip was weakening. His eyes widened. “You can surrender if you want… but you won’t, will you? Allow me to end this battle then. Bring him down, Shark Rash!”</p><p>Johnny, still shocked by Mariam’s words, could only watch as Shark Rash slipped out of Salamalyon’s hold. The shark then circled around his bitbeast, as if circling a wounded animal in the ocean. He could see the grazes on Salamalyon’s tail left by Shark Rash’s skin. The shark increased its speed until it became a blur. Salamalyon’s massive bulk made it hard for him to strike back. He looked more like a clumsy overgrown bitbeast in comparison to Mariam’s Shark Rash.</p><p>Before he could react, Shark Rash slammed into his blade with such power, it shook the dish. Salamalyon retreated into his bitchip as it flew out of the dish, and into a wall, leaving a big hole in it. Stunned, Johnny remained in position, speechless. His mouth had become dry, and the words had gotten stuck in his throat. Had he just lost to some unproven blader? How could he have allowed his guard to drop like that? It was like losing to Kai all over again, but worse.</p><p>Mariam held out her hand and called back her blade. “The bigger they are, the harder they fall.”</p><p>Maybe <em>he </em>was the weak link on the Majestics. Maybe they would be better off without him on the team. Maybe they’d even be stronger. It wasn’t like he ever wanted to be part of the Majestics anyway. Maybe he was the one holding them back? What if… Finding his voice again, he croaked out, “You got lucky, that’s all. Beginner’s luck. Next time that won’t happen.” Embarrassing.</p><p>“You’re a sore loser.”</p><p>Throwing his arms out to the sides, he added, “So you beat me. So fucking what? You want a medal or something?”</p><p>Mariam lifted a brow. “…and I thought Dunga had problems…”</p><p>“Hey sis, is this chump giving you trouble?”</p><p>Johnny’s eyebrow twitched. Chump? He turned his head. A newcomer. Mariam’s brother. A boy much shorter than Mariam came forth, cradling a box of doughnuts in his arms. Unlike his sister, he had dark green hair, but they shared the same emerald eyes. He was flanked by a much bigger brute with shaggy dirty blond hair.</p><p>“He’s not giving me trouble, Joseph. He’s just having a hard time accepting his loss.”</p><p>“Wait – isn’t that Johnny McGregor from the Majestics?”</p><p>“Yeah, that’s him. Just don’t ask him for an autograph or he’ll try and bite your head off.”</p><p>“And you beat him, sis?”</p><p>“That’s what I just said.”</p><p>“I didn’t think they were that tough.” Joseph looked him up and down. “Just a washed-up team. Ozuma could take them on in his sleep. Can’t wait to face them in the tournament… if they’re even accepted.” The blond brute next to him laughed. “We should back anyway. Ozuma insists we head back home now. You know he doesn’t like waiting around too long.”</p><p>Mariam rolled her eyes then turned back to face him. “I’m sure we’ll be seeing you again, Johnny. Next time we meet I expect a better fight.”</p><p>Johnny held his tongue. No point in fighting back since he had already lost. He was just glad his ‘teammates’ weren’t there to witness it. But to think he had lost to an opponent he should’ve easily beaten. What clan was she from again? The Saint Shields? Maybe his tutor would know. The man would certainly be delighted to know Johnny was showing an interest in history after all these years. Without saying a word, Johnny left the alleyway, images of his defeat still playing in his mind like a bad movie.</p><p>.</p><p>Stanley’s death had rocked the beyblade community hard. She didn’t know the man as well as the others, but she mourned his passing. As difficult as it was to adjust to a life without him, she knew they had to keep moving forwards. That’s why she was visiting the local grocery shop and stocking up on supplies for a barbeque. Kenny had sent word about having a private funeral for the man that had done so much for the world.</p><p>It was also a way of getting the Bladebreakers back together. She hadn’t seen Kai in months, nor had she spent much time with Rei and Max. The only two people she spent a lot of time with were Tyson and Kenny as Daichi had disappeared. Not that she was complaining. It meant more alone time with Tyson.</p><p>A smile graced her lips. Her bull-headed classmate that had given her much pain over the years, yet she couldn’t imagine a life without him. Being in his presence was like stepping out into the sunlight after days of being in the cold. He radiated a certain warmth, and she was drawn to him like a moth to a flame. But blading was his one true love, and he didn’t seem to have room for anyone else.</p><p>With all the drama happening now, Tyson didn’t have any time for relationships anyway. He probably didn’t even know what one was with his mind so preoccupied with blading. Actually, now that she thought about it, she wondered if any of the Bladebreakers were dating material. All they ever talked about was beyblading. They even dreamed about it too.</p><p>As she walked down the street cradling the plastic bags in her arms, she heard battle noises coming from the local blading park. Quickening her pace, she followed the sounds until she reached her destination. There were three people standing around the beydish. One kid with messy blond curls, and a man and a woman standing on the opposite side of the dish.</p><p>She crouched behind a bush and peered over the top, watching the battle play out before her. It was two against one. The kid didn’t stand a chance. What made things worse was that she recognized the duo. A woman with pale skin and black hair, and her partner, a tanned male with light grey hair. King and Queen. The infamous part hunters. What on earth were they doing here and why were they battling some kid?</p><p>“Remember the rules. When we win, you give us your blade,” King said.</p><p>“That was my late grandfather’s gift to me!”</p><p>Queen shrugged. “A deal is a deal. We promise you – we’ll put those parts to good use. You’ll be doing the world a favour, kid.” King’s blade slammed into the opponent’s, pushing it to the edge of the dish. “Give up already. You’re not good enough to be blading at the elite level. So why don’t you save yourself an embarrassing loss, and just hand over the blade?”</p><p>“Cool it, Queen. We had a deal, and we should honour it.”</p><p>“Must you always ruin the moment?”</p><p>He turned to face her. “You know the rules.”</p><p>“Fine. We’ll do it your way. Just hurry up already and end the battle or I will.”</p><p>King nodded, and turned back to the dish. “Ariel, finish it.” Ariel pulled back then charged, pushing the kid’s blade out of the dish. “The battle is done. Honour your side of the deal and your blade over. I promise, your blade will be used well.”</p><p>The kid dropped to his knees. Unable to watch anymore of this, Hilary rose to her feet and charged towards the duo. “That blade is not yours to take!” she cried out. A part of her told her to turn back now and contact Tyson to handle this. These two were skilled bladers – she didn’t even know how to launch one correctly. But she couldn’t keep crying out wolf.</p><p>King and Queen turned around. A sneer spread across Queen’s face. “Hilary! It’s so good to see your face again. It’s been what, almost two years since we last saw each other?”</p><p>“I would never forget a face like yours.” And how could she knowing what this woman and her partner did? Taking parts of people as if they had the right. Even Kai had been a victim to their cruel games. “That blade isn’t yours. Give it back.”</p><p>“Or else what?” Queen replied. “What are you going to do about it?”</p><p>Absolutely nothing. There was nothing she could do to stop them. Sometimes, she wished she was a blader too so she could fight people who deserved to be punished. Never had she felt so helpless as she did now.</p><p>“What are you doing? Why are you stealing parts? I thought you were done with that,” Hilary said, trying a different tactic. If she couldn’t take them on by force, she could fish for information that could later be used against them.</p><p>“This is how we survive, Hilary,” King said. “We tried to live the normal life. You know, find a job. But no one wanted to take us. No one wants to help the outcasts. We were about to give up when we were made an offer that we simply couldn’t refuse – find parts and exchange for money. That’s how we eat. How we drink. How we sleep at night on a bed rather than a cold floor. We need to do this to live.”</p><p>“By taking from others what isn’t yours to take? You justify your actions for selfish reasons.”</p><p>Queen opened her mouth to speak, but King raised a hand, calling for silence. “You have to do whatever it takes to survive. It might be hard to believe, but we’re doing what is for the greater good of the world,” King explained.</p><p>“By stealing parts? You are criminals,” she spat.</p><p>“These parts are going to create the best blades ever to play the game.”</p><p>“But why go to such extremes? What do you gain out of it?”</p><p>Queen cleared her throat. “Let’s cut to the chase, King. The BBA are done. It’s time for a change. With Stanley Dickinson dead, that change can now happen. All that remains now is finishing off the Bladebreakers. Drive them out of business for good. As long as your friends remain in the game, this sport will never grow.”</p><p>“You’re wrong.”</p><p>Queen’s eyebrows lifted. “Am I? We all know Tyson will never retire until someone knocks him off his throne. Tala failed. Zeo failed. Even Brooklyn, the so-called genius at blading failed to defeat Tyson. Not even Kai could and many regard him as the best blader ever.” Queen moved closer until she was standing about an arm’s length away from Hilary. “I know you care for him, Hilary. Why else would you follow him everywhere and stand at his side? But the Bladebreakers and their sacred bitbeasts need to be sealed.”</p><p>Hilary gave a sardonic laugh. “This again? Why is it always about the bitbeasts? We’ve already had to deal with the Saint Shields coming after us. And guess what? They failed to do their job. If you think you can seal away the bitbeasts of my friends, you’re mistaken.”</p><p>“We’re not planning on sealing them away in some stupid rock,” Queen said, amused. “A rock can easily be broken. The boss has plans. He says he’s going to send them far far away to a place of which there is no return. The sacred bitbeasts will remain in this place for eternity and the world of blading can continue to prosper.”</p><p>Hilary couldn’t help it. She laughed. “So this is what this all about? You’re all jealous because none of you could defeat the Bladebreakers, and now you want to seal them away? You’ll never succeed.”</p><p>Queen just laughed. “There’s a lot of people out there who despise the Bladebreakers and what they stand for. If you were smart you’d leave them to their fate. There’s no future with people like that.”</p><p>Turning to his partner, King said, “You have to give her some credit, Queen. She’s brave, but she’ll realize she’s selected the wrong side in due time.” He then faced Hilary again. “Go back to your friends and tell them this – stand down or compete and lose everything. We’re giving your friends a chance, Hilary. A chance to live.”</p><p>She shook her head and stamped her foot. She couldn’t believe a single word they were speaking. Queen was just trying to mess with her head. Surely, they couldn’t be universally despised? Tyson and his friends had saved the world more than twice, and they would continue to do so until they could no longer blade.</p><p>“I’m not going to abandon my friends, and they’re not going to just give up. You obviously don’t know them too well if you think they’ll heed your warning.”</p><p>“Perhaps this should be a good enough warning.” Before Hilary could react, Queen raised her blade, and fired.</p><p>.</p><p>It had been many weeks, no months, since Rei had last set foot in Tyson’s dojo. The last time he had been in here was to discuss the attack plan against the Bega League. The place hadn’t changed at all – everything looked exactly how he remembered it to be. Only one person was missing – Tyson’s grandpa. Kenny explained the man had taken a short break to clear his mind.</p><p>“Where’s Tyson?” Max said, sitting opposite to Rei on the floor, his legs crossed and hands folded in his lap.</p><p>Kenny looked up from his laptop. “Tyson said he needed to clear his head. You don’t think he’s run into any trouble, do you?”</p><p>“He’d be able to handle it. It’s Tyson,” Rei answered. “Speaking of danger, we ran into a bit ourselves. We were at a café just hanging out. Out of nowhere, this blade was launched in our general direction, leading us into an alleyway. There was writing on the wall. Show him, Max.”</p><p>Max nodded, pulling out his phone. He brought the image up and showed it to Kenny. “Graffiti on the wall. It’s like they wanted us to specifically see this message. Why else would they lead us down that particular alleyway?” He lowered his phone and out it away, then added, “What if they’re watching us right now?”</p><p>“We need to know who ‘we’ is,” Rei said. “Right now? We don’t know anything asides from someone has a vendetta against the BBA for whatever reason. This writing is a good step. Maybe there are more clues about for us to find.”</p><p>Kenny raised a hand. “Hold on. We can’t act until Tyson returns.”</p><p>“We also need Kai on this. He’s a Bladebreaker too,” Max said. “Maybe he knows more about this mess.”</p><p>Rei nodded. “If anyone knows about suspicious behaviour it would be Kai.”</p><p>The door opened. Turning his head around, Rei saw Tyson standing in the doorway, a troubled expression on his face. “Tyson!” Rei exclaimed, running over towards him. Max and Kenny joined his side. “Are you okay?” That expression on his face could only mean something had happened.</p><p>Tyson grimaced. “We have a real issue on our hands.”</p><p>Tyson was usually upbeat and lively. When he was down in the dumps it was obvious there was something terribly wrong. He was never upset without good reason. “You ran into them too, then? The mysterious blader?”</p><p>Raising a brow, Tyson said, “Blader? I talked with Alexander. He was that kid we abandoned back in Russia.”</p><p>Alexander? Wait, he was the blader who battled against Tyson in that exhibition match. A match obviously held to see just what Tyson was capable of doing, and to catch Kai’s attention. “We ran into some trouble of our own, Tyson. Max and I were at a local café when a blade appeared out of nowhere leading us on a chase to some deserted alleyway with the words, ‘The end is nigh’ on the walls.”</p><p>Tyson adjusted his cap then continued speaking. “I also ran into Kai. He made a… interesting suggestion.”</p><p>“What do you mean?” Rei hadn’t seen Kai since the last time the Bladebreakers fought as a team. It was rumoured Kai had returned to Russia, but that didn’t seem to be true at all. He was still in town and most likely keeping an eye on his teammates despite pretending not to like them. Typical Kai. “Does he know what’s going on?”</p><p>“No. He knows as much as we do, but he’s positive it’s an attack against the BBA. Obviously, someone has it in for them, and with the words Alexander told me, it only strengthens that suspicion.” Tyson closed the door behind him then moved towards the centre of the room before sitting down.</p><p>Rei, Kenny and Max followed and sat in a circle. How odd it was to be sitting down in this room making plans for the future once again. Ever since the Bladebreakers became one, this had become a common thing. Rei wasn’t sure if that was a good or a bad thing. It was good to meet with his close friends, but to meet in conditions like this when there was a threat against them? Very unsettling.</p><p>“Alexander basically implied we do have enemies hiding around every corner, and most of them are people we have crossed paths with at some point. He claimed we were the enemies, that we are the ones prohibiting progress because we keep winning all the time. He doesn’t know who the shooter is however,” Tyson explained, his shoulders slumped. “I wasn’t there when Stanley was shot, but I feel we owe it to him to find answers and protect the BBA.”</p><p>“We don’t even know who we are fighting against,” Rei said. “We’re facing off against shadows with no faces. Some of us aren’t even registered to compete in this year’s tournament. Our contracts were finished after the last tournament, and Stanley isn’t there to renew them. If what Alexander says is true, our enemies want to keep us out of the tournament.”</p><p>“Rei’s right, Tyson. The Bladebreakers officially split. Our contracts have expired. We can’t be part of the Bladebreakers again even if we wanted to. Stanley owns the name, and now he’s dead. No one else is going to want to renew that contract,” Max said.</p><p>Tyson made a fist and laid it down on the space before him. “But we can still fight. We don’t have to be part of the BBA to complete in this tournament. We have enough funds to support ourselves. The Blitzkrieg Boys funded themselves. We can too. There’s still time to register, and I don’t have to go through the qualifying rounds because I am the champion, but you won’t have any problems getting through.”</p><p>Kenny laid down his laptop on his knees and brought the screen up. “We can register. We need a team name and list of people competing.”</p><p>“We can decide on the name later, but we have to think about it carefully. We know someone wanted Stanley dead, but we don’t know why. We were discussing it earlier with Kenny before you showed up, but Max and I got attacked at a café in the city. Some blader. They wanted us to see a message, the end is nigh. We don’t know who it is, but we are being watched.” Rei looked at Max who showed the image to Tyson. “I don’t want to speak ill of the dead, but Stanley knew something.”</p><p>“And we don’t know what that is,” Max said. “This tournament could be the most dangerous one we’ve ever fought. I’m not saying we shouldn’t do it, but we must be aware of the risks. Someone wants to bring the BBA down. We might not be battling under the BBA name nor representing them, but we’re still the same bladers. The people who killed Mr. Dickinson, might want us out of the way too.”</p><p>Tyson raked a hand through his hair. “Why would he not tell us anything?”</p><p>“Maybe he didn’t want us to worry,” Rei concluded.</p><p>“He always seemed so happy,” Max said, frowning.</p><p>Rei sighed. “We can’t keep dwelling on the past. Mr. Dickinson is dead. Maybe he was involved in something sinister and got killed for knowing too much. Maybe the BBA is hiding secrets and Mr. Dickinson was close to revealing all. We don’t know. Someone wants us out of the way. Killing us would be too easy – they want us shamed. They want us in this tournament,” he said slowly, the realization sinking in. Stanley wasn’t there to protect them now. A perfect opportunity.</p><p>“Wouldn’t the rest of the board defend us?”</p><p>“A lot of them jumped ship when Bega popped up,” Max said. “They didn’t support us. Stanley was the last person standing who strongly believed in our cause.”</p><p>“Great,” Tyson muttered. “So, the board was made up of Boris loyalists. Maybe it was one of them who brought down Stanley.”</p><p>“Regardless, we need to prepare for this tournament,” Rei said then looked at Kenny. “Sign us up.”</p><p>“Wait, Rei.” Max waved an arm. “What about Kai? He’s a Bladebreaker too.”</p><p>“I thought he was retiring. I haven’t seen him in months.”</p><p>Tyson shook his head. “He’ll be here. I met him the other day actually.”</p><p>Rei nodded. “Great. Our team is stronger with Kai with us.”</p><p>“That’s because we’re stronger united than we are divided,” Tyson answered.</p><p>Kenny closed his laptop. “I’m not so sure about this… This will be even worse than what we endured throughout the Bega era. Back then, we were only fighting against Boris, but now? How many faceless men are we going up against? Maybe the smarter option would be to not compete at all.”’</p><p>Tyson shook his head. “No way, Chief. I’m still the champion, and I will defend my title. I’m not ever going to back down.”</p><p>“Tyson’s right. This is who we are, Kenny. We are the Bladebreakers and we do not walk away from a threat. Giving up is what they want,” Max said.</p><p>Kenny looked to Rei. “Rei, please say you don’t agree with them! This is madness!”</p><p>“I understand your concerns, Kenny, but I’m siding with Max and Tyson. Based on our previous history, it’s safe to say our enemies will compete in the stadium. That’s what these people do – they want us to feel humiliated – and they can achieve that in front of the global audience. That places the lives of all our friends competing at risk too, and I won’t stand aside and allow that to happen.”</p><p>Kenny looked from Rei, to Tyson, to Max then to Tyson again, the colour draining from his face. “This is going to end badly…”</p><p>“Be positive, chief,” Tyson said, clapping a hand on his shoulder.</p><p>“Then it’s settled. We’ll compete in the tournament,” Rei said. To blade again in the professional environment. He didn’t think he’d be coming out of retirement so quickly, but he was secretly pleased.</p><p>“We’ll need a new team name and we’ll need to nominate a captain,” Max said.</p><p>“No need for that because we all know that I will be the captain of the team,” a voice said from behind.</p><p>Glancing over his shoulder, Rei looked towards the entrance. Kai stood in the doorway. As usual, there was no smile on his face. Of course Kai would have to show up right at this time. He always had impeccable timing. “Kai, it’s been awhile.”</p><p>He stepped inside and closed the door behind him. As usual, Kai ignored him. “I’m glad you’ve come to a decision without me. I can’t always be around to babysit you lot and make the tough decisions,” Kai remarked, his tone laced with amusement. Was that an attempted joke by him? Since when did Kai have a sense of humour? “We’ll need to register our new team name, and we’ll have to qualify.”</p><p>“Qualify?” Max repeated.</p><p>“According to the rules, all new teams must qualify to compete in the tournament,” Kenny said. “It doesn’t matter who you are.”</p><p>Kai looked at Tyson. “That does exclude you, Tyson since you have automatic qualification…. but you won’t get to defend your title if the team as a whole fails to make it through.”</p><p>“That’s not going to happen,” Rei said. “We’ll qualify.”</p><p>“I want to share the same confidence as you, Rei, but I wouldn’t be so cocky. I think this tournament will be the toughest one yet. Yes, we are the most experienced bladers to ever play the game… But as Bega showed us last year, we’re not the only ones with powerful bitbeasts. We need to be cautious.”</p><p>“Way to dampen the mood, Kai,” Tyson commented.</p><p> Kai gave Tyson his trademark smirk. “As captain, it’s my job to ensure you all stay focused. Training begins tomorrow. You all need to be up by the time the sun rises. If you’re not, you’re off the team.” He turned his back and headed back towards the doorway. “Kenny, I’ll need to talk with you. The rest of you – get some sleep.”</p><p>Rei watched Kenny and Kai exit the dojo, feeling as if he had just been slapped in the face. “Looks like the old grouch is back.”</p><p>“You don’t think he’d actually kick us off the team though, right?” Max said.</p><p>Tyson shook his head. “He needs us. He won’t admit it, but he needs us on the team. After all, we <em>did </em>just make a vow we were in this together.” He stretched his arms above his head then yawned. “Hey, do you think we should order pizza tonight?”</p><p>Max gave him the thumbs up. “Pizza sounds good! I’ll place an order. Do you have any preferences?”</p><p>“Anything goes,” Rei said. “I’m cool with anything.”</p><p>“What about Kai though? He doesn’t strike me as a pizza guy,” Max said.</p><p>“If he’s not happy, there’s some stuff in the fridge,” Tyson answered. “Anyway, I’ll catch up with you shortly. I’m just going to give Hil a call. She’ll be thrilled to know Kai is back.” Tyson turned to exit the room, taking a left turn into a corridor. Once Tyson was out of hearing range, Max faced Rei, smiling.</p><p>“Did you hear that? He called her Hil.”</p><p>Rei laughed. “I don’t think he even realized he said that.”</p><p>“You think Tyson is even aware of how Hilary feels?”</p><p>He shrugged. “About Hilary’s obvious crush on him? Probably not. He probably thinks Hilary likes Kai. Noticed how he said she’ll be thrilled to know Kai is back?” He then paled. “Don’t tell Hilary I said that.” The girl might not be a blader, but she could cause collateral damage without one. He did not want to be on the receiving end of that girl’s rage.</p><p>Chuckling, Max pulled out his phone. “Maybe we can play a round of <em>Truth or Dare </em>later when Hilary arrives. Hey, maybe Kai could play too.”</p><p>“Or <em>Charades. Pictionary, </em>perhaps. That’s a game Kai would like.”</p><p>Max chuckled again, withdrawing his phone. “Well, I should probably order that pizza now. Talk soon.” He rose to his feet and exited the room.</p><p>Rei remained on the floor, cross-legged, thinking about the past twenty-four hours. Twenty-four hours ago he had regretted retiring. Twenty-four hours later and here he was blading again with his friends. “Here’s to a successful tournament. We’ll be sure to make you proud of us, Mr. D.”</p><p>He bowed his head in silent prayer. Whoever had shot Stanley was going to regret it.</p>
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